Anthropomorphic muffins

First, I would like to thank everyone who has come to check out what we have been doing. Pass the word. It started a while back and it has been a slow progression, but it hasn't stopped. I have to say we have been lucky with the help we have gotten from our friends.

The short bit that I am posting here was in fact, I believe, the first piece that I wrote during writing group. I had two prompts: anthropomorphic muffin and cathedral . As you will see right away or maybe slowly, we all have different styles and the directions we take our writing vary drastically.

The stories that we will publish in our first edition will be about 70-80 pages total in a 5 x 7 format, I think. Considering when we meet to write, we are looking to generate ideas, tell stories and get comments what we write is much shorter. I am always impressed. Sometimes it is amazing what someone will do with an idea and sometimes we are writing and someone will say, "Oh this is sooo bad...". It is always fun.

Normally, I don't give the short pieces titles, but for putting them here I guess I will. This, inspired by the prompts above, is:

A Heart's Taste of Purpose

“I haven't eaten in days, my battalion is... I don't know where and my only protection from the war is this broken cathedral.” My soldier uniform is filthy, but of no concern to me. Things are in a haze.

“I can help,” it sounds like a voice spoken through a muffled bag.

“Who...?”

“I am under the pew. Behind you. You saw me when you came in yesterday, but I think you forgot me. You passed out and I think you had nightmares.”

“I don't remember anyone.”

“Look. You'll see me. You need me and I need you. Give me a purpose.” The sounds of the words are still distorted.

I look under the pew. “My god... is... is that you?”

“Yes.” says the muffin.

“How?” I ask.

“The chaos of war changes everything big to small. It breaks concrete and even minds.”

“Me, am I crazy?”

“No. You are hungry. Eat me. Don't let me waste away without a proper end. I have oats and... and sweet banana.”

“I can't.”

“I know. I am ugly. I feel sluggish. This green-blue coat of fur is getting thicker everyday, but I can still help you.”

“No. I am not going to eat you. You are disgusting and I can find real food.”

“That hurts. I don't think you can and I think leaving me to rot is selfish and wrong. You can peel away the rot, the green-blue fur. The banana bits on the inside are still good.”

The muffin is heavy to lift. I begin to peel away the rot.

The muffin whispers, “Thank you.”