A tasket...

I have nothing in my little, white refrigerator.
Don't tell.

I like to think that I have chocolate fudge ice cream with swirls of caramel. It's almost gone because I sneak a spoonful about five times a day. My friends stop by periodically and eye the fridge knowing what it safeguards. Sometimes, if I feel generous, I let them sneak a spoonful too.

In the ice box to my right, lies a old, red tupperware bowl that's keeping leftover lasagne airtight. Every night when I get home from a long day of school, I change out of my jeans into sweats, flip on the TV, and cut myself a piece. Two minutes in the microwave is all it takes to become delectable once more.

I have a confession, I still have Girl Scout cookies. The thin mint kind. Aligned in a row, they wait for me in the fridge where they are just the right temperature to enjoy. Their scalloped edges give just the perfect touch to their simple chocolate shell. With the pint of one-percent milk that sits directly in front of the treats, they make me smile. Guilty pleasure? Of course.

I reach out. A quick wish is released. For a second, as the white metal door swings out, I almost believe. I look inside. An empty ice tray sits on a white, metal rack in my white, little refrigerator.

I have nothing in my little, white refrigerator.
Don't tell.