French Toast and Bacon Muffin


Today, the gates of the heavens opened with a mighty roar, unleashing a brilliant flash of light. God himself stretched out his hand and bequeathed onto me a hallowed muffin: a french toast and bacon muffin. It was the perfect mix of sweat, salty, and whatever ‘egg’ is. It’t outer skin crumbled away, revealing a soft, warm interior. It was gently sprinkled with angelic powdered sugar. The final piece of the perfect puzzle was the liberally applied strips of bacon.

The tastes danced in a quick tango on my tongue, swirling around in upbeat, perfect harmony. As the flavors lingered in my mouth, they relaxed into a serene waltz. As I took another bite, the ballroom splendor began all over again.

This homemade little bundle of joy came into my life and brought new meaning, opening my eyes to the wonders of the world. But just as soon as it revealed itself to me, my muffin was gone: eaten by some savage. I have absolutely no idea where it went. Or where the other one went. No clue…


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