It is 0600 and I am lying in bed craving something hot and sweet.
You are so desperately wrong if you are thinking that I am hungering for one of those perfect little blonde Hollywood twits who would gladly hop into the sack with any man or woman or both within reach without even knowing their names. You would not even need a picture ID.
I am not so stupid as to be with my wife and think of another woman, the hot and sweet kind, because she would know. A hot and sweet one could just barely flash through my head and Cinelli would perceive it even if she were sound asleep.
"What's this, old boy," she would say, sitting up in bed, "more erotic fantasies? Remember you've been sick and even a modest fantasy could stop the old ticker. It's too early to get up. Go back to sleep. Dream of puppies."
I don't know how she does it, but she does, eyes twinkling with understanding humor. Weird. Whose eyes ever twinkle at six in the morning unless they're coming off a cocaine high?
At any rate, it wasn't a woman I was thinking about, it was a candy bar for diabetics. We have something called Glucerna Nutrition Bars which are guaranteed not to cause hyperglycemic fits or otherwise cause you to dance naked upside down on the ceiling.
I'm only supposed to have one a day but I discovered where she hides them and once in a while I have two. Discovering the cache was like breaking the Japanese naval code in World War Two: you keep the knowledge to yourself and only use it when you must: like tracking carriers or finding candy bars.
I don't actually need them hot, but the chocolate melts nicely if they're even a little warm
The constraints on my diet are being caused by the fact that my type 2 diabetes needs to be better controlled. After bouts with pneumonia and other ailments I need to stay away from cookies or cake or even an excessive amount of the snacklets provided by the Glucerna bars.
I also cannot eat mounds of salt because it fills my heart sac with water and makes breathing too hard to enjoy the teeny-tiny oatmeal raisin bars. Cinelli can tell from a distance of 40 feet whether or not a food contains excessive amounts of sodium chloride and makes it vanish like a cow at a salt lick if it does. She has the power.
I can hear her heavy breathing, indicating she Is asleep again, so I figure what the hell, I'll try for the candy bar once more. But this time the hot sweet thing is being offered by a hot sweet thing, so I take them both, and she doesn't even awaken. She knows it is only a dream.