Bagged by the Groceries!

by Fannie Tucker

large sack of flour formed the thing’s abdomen, and it had a broad chest and shoulders composed of packages of ground beef. The rounded slabs of meat gave it a sculpted, muscular look that matched its bulging eggplant biceps. At the end of forearms – each one made up of ears of corn still in the husk, orange hands clenched and unclenched, and she saw that each knuckle was a baby carrot.

Atop its shoulders sat a head of iceberg lettuce that she’d meant to turn into a wedge salad with bleu cheese dressing. Now it gazed at her with black olive eyes that somehow conveyed a disturbing intelligence.

The upper body sat atop two thick loaves of bread. Between those whole-grain thighs hung a long, thick cucumber and a pair of smooth, ripe nectarines.