A Collection

cookie jar

Fingers slide over the jar, caressing it, the cool glass against skin. They trace over the countless ridges surrounding the rim, the bronze cover and the band that seals it shut. Behind the glass lays a treasure he cannot reach. Like a moth to a light they cannot touch, the boy only stood there, getting as close as he can to the glass.

Once he tried to smash the jar. Overcome by a sudden urge to reach the chocolatey goods within, his clumsy fingers brought the jar over his head and smashed it down. The riches inside had come spilling out, but even in death, the sentinel that guarded the treasure cut and slashed at his skin. His feet reddened with the blood of his cuts. Scrabbling for the valuables did no good; glass only gouged his fingers.

The boy realized he could get to the cookies this way. So he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on whatever crumbs he touched; sugar mixed with the tang of blood.

But the boy had learned his lesson now. This method only caused pain, pain with no success. There must be another way.

Once he watched bigger people unscrew the jar. They turned the lid with the many small ridges, and the top popped off. No glass shards, no pain. The big people gave him a cookie. So when his fingers were healed, and the cuts on his feet lines of pink flesh, he tried to unscrew it. He tried and tried, tried until the ridges were red stamps in his skin, tried until he could barely feel his fingers. But his little boy strength wasn't enough; the jar wouldn't budge.

The jar slipped free from his numb hands and shattered. Once again, the glass cut his skin, sending a fire of pain through his body. The burning kept the boy from trying again.

And so now, the boy contented himself by looking and touching the glass; the layer between him and the chocolate chip cookies.

In ten years, the boy would no longer spend all his free time at the glass. There was still a pull to the jar, but it was more like a small tug. No longer was he overcome with the urge to devour. Just wait, he told himself. You'll get your chance, just wait.

disclaimer: this is not a representation of my mental state.

thanks for reading :)