The Slow-Cooked Sentence

When life riffs from a good book

Rachael Conlin Levy

A small sack of chocolate spiders sat on the table. Ivan peeked into the bag, then looked at me.

We could cut them, he said.

No, I answered. You ate your spider and those are for your brothers and sister.

They could share? he said.

No, I said. Count them.

He reached inside and pulled out one chocolate spider and placed it on the table.

One for Max, he said.

He pulled out a second spider and placed it next to the first.

Chaja, he said.

The third spider he squeezed, slowly put it next to the first two, then snatched it back.

Who is that for? I asked.

Ivan, he said, then grinned and licked it.

Sam, I insisted.

But Ivan ran away and hid. The small sack was empty.

Where are you Ivan? I called.

Ivan ate the feet.

You better not be eating the chocolate spiders, I said.

Ivan ate the heads.

We can share the spiders, I said.

Ivan at the bodies. I opened the closet door and found him with chocolate smears on his cheeks.

Oh, Ivan! How could you?

* With apologies to Rosemary Well’s “Max’s Chocolate Chicken.”

3 responses to “When life riffs from a good book”

  1. anno says:

    Ha! Rosemary Wells would LOVE this!

  2. Sometimes our animal instincts kick in… Ivan seems pretty charming.

  3. Melissa says:

    We are huge Max fans in this house and now Ivan fans too!

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