Devil's Soul

Chapter 1 (sort of)

I don’t like sad things. Do you like sad things? I know I don’t. They make me feel…well, sad. As an opposer of all things sad, I feel obligated to warn you that this story starts out that way. Sad, I mean. But don’t let all the sadness scare you away because it gets…Well, “better” isn’t quite the right word for it. “Weirder” is, perhaps, more appropriate. Let’s just say that you can anticipate feeling less sad rather quickly.

Maybe you can sense that I’m stalling. I just don’t like this part of the story, okay? And I don’t just mean the sad part. I mean the part leading out of the sad part too. It wasn’t my proudest moment. Unfortunately, that moment is the most essential part of the story. If I don’t explain it to you now, you won’t understand any of the other things I have to tell you.

But now that I’m thinking about it, I’m not sure why I wanted to tell you any of that stuff in the first place. The whole story is really just one big not-so-proud moment, followed by a succession of other, smaller not-so-proud moments that were all caused by the initial one.

Does anyone want to hear the story about the time I swallowed a spoonful of cinnamon? I didn’t actually swallow it, so to speak, but I tried, and the result was pretty hilarious. I earned marks of bravery among my third grade peers. Even some of the toughest boys in my class were too afraid to do it. You should have seen me spewing puffs of cinnamon into the hair of my classmates! We were laughing about it for weeks afterward! Our parents couldn’t figure out for the life of them why the mention of cinnamon induced tear-brimmed giggles from all of us. Good times, good times. Why are you just sitting there? Didn’t you find the story funny? Maybe you had to be there.