Ficlets

Pass the Ketchup

Ketchup and chocolate chip cookies had no business being anywhere near each other. Not on the same table. And certainly not on the same plate.

But Leland devoured them like they were an elite pairing as extraordinary as Stilton and Port. His unrefined palate preferred tomato-based sauces spiked with high fructose corn syrup and cookies deep in unsalted butter. Gingersnaps went well with barbeque sauce. Snickerdoodles topped with Ragu made him swoon like an epicure at a four-star Michelin restaurant.

He considered bottles of ketchup like wines, examining the “best by” date stamped onto the plastic caps, preferring Heinz for Toll House and Hunts for Famous Amos. He even kept reserves of no-frills store brands, saved for special moments with white chocolate chunk.

When Wynona accepted his dinner invitation, she knew not of his peculiar taste buds. While his knowledge of tomato varieties proved fascinating, she decided there would be no second date after he dipped his hamburger in milk.

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