One evening in June, I’ll step out of the Snacks Quarterly Headquarters and into a Creamsicle twilight. The smell of wild rosemary and Cheetos on the wind.
And I’m back there again.
Back in the watermelon patch, trying to get my skinny arms around the first ripe melon of the season. Cutting it right down the middle with the dull blade of my father’s bowie knife. Putting the first half on my lap like a bowl and digging in. Wishing someone could help me finish the second.
Seeing that pair of brown eyes peeking over the vines.
Rebecca.
Back on the Fourth of July. Sneaking one last hot dog between the three we’ve had for dinner and the ice cream sundaes we’ll have for dessert. Sneaking one last kiss under the porch so our folks won’t see.
Stomachs are heavy as the fireworks begin, but hearts are light as I wrap my arms around her and she tells me:
“Forever.”
Back to my tears. My tears falling on a bag of watermelon Now and Laters. “She wanted you to have these,” her father says. “You’ll never see her again.”
Salty and sweet.
The Now and Laters tasted salty and sweet as I watched them take Rebecca away from me.
Ah, summertime.
Welcome to the second issue of
This summer, we’ve got a whole new group of artists and writers to share their innermost thoughts and feelings about that most universal conduit of emotion: the snack.
So take a deep breath and a bite of something not-so-great for you. Let’s get started.
Munch on,
Sinclair P. Munch, Jr., Editor in Chief