Craving

It was four in the morning,

and we were out of cookies,

and the stores were all closed,

of course,

and even if they had been open,

I had already taken off

my pants and my bra,

so I laid on my back

and tried not to think of them:

chocolate chip,

snickerdoodles,

peanut butter,

oatmeal raisin,

double chocolate chip,

white chocolate cranberry,

shortbread,

toffee chip,

sandwich cookies,

Girl Scout cookies,

Italian wedding cookies,

and so on.

Wide awake still

and now ravenous,

I raided my pantry

for possible ingredients.

I found

flour,

sugar,

baking soda,

almond extract,

and an old box of raisins.

In the fridge

I had butter

and three eggs.

Not even working from a recipe,

in my madness,

I mixed all of these things

in a bowl,

til I thought it looked dough-like

and dropped spoonfuls onto

my one baking sheet.

I baked them at 325 degrees

for eight minutes

and then another five

and barely let them cool

before I scarfed them down.

They wound up being more bread

than cookie,

but they were warm and sweet,

and I felt almost sick

when I thought about how many

and how quickly I had eaten.

I made some coffee

and watched the sun rise.

A few cars were on the street already,

and I wondered,

where could they possibly be going?