I was so happy when my parents took me to get cookie.
They always told me Cookie was a dumb name, beneath a creature of such majesty, but I love Cookie with all my heart just the same.
(And come on, who doesn't like a Cookie?)
I decided, then, to accept the Cookie, just this once.
After taking it, I inspected the Cookie very carefully, making sure to use all my senses.
My spider sense tingled; all the same, I ate the Cookie whole.
It tasted as a cookie should, sweet, a bit buttery, yielding in its chewiness, but when I swallowed, it was more than a cookie.
It expanded in my throat, filling me with a sense of existential dread.
Time hastened to a stop, I could still breathe and the stench of existentialism surrendered and brought me a cube of sugar.
The preceding was a story you participated in on Monday, October 27 2014. The sentence in bold is yours.
Story prompt by S.S. ZGHOT. Sentences in this story path were contributed by Mike, Alex Jonathan Brown, Caitlin, Casey Kolderup, inky, bp, colin, and Efren.