Poem Chocolate Novels & Stories

Around here I doubt that someone is coming to rob us, but it is better to be safe. He lets go of me and closes the door when I finish coming in. "Let's go have coffee." I think we have a lot to talk about. I put an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe it's a little late for coffee." How about a water chocolate? —It refers to liquid chocolate, which is almost a national anthem. It is nothing more than a chocolate with sugar, a pinch of salt, more water than chocolate tables and perhaps a cinnamon stick. It is the breakfast of the poor, as some call it. I call it delight.

He sat down on a rock by the roadside and pulled out the old chocolate. The foil was creased. The surface was bloomed white. He peeled the foil back and put the chocolate in his mouth. No sweetness. No bitterness. Just the astringent taste of old cocoa powder. The sweetness had dissipated years ago; the white bloom had sucked it all away. He swallowed it anyway. He didn't need to carry it anymore. He'd already memorized everything. He didn't need an inedible piece of chocolate to remind him.

We walk into the gas station and Kayla says, "Pick your poison. I'm buying, birthday girl". I think pure chocolate is the best thing for me, so I grab a king size chocolate bar nothing else in it... just straight chocolate. Kayla looks at it and says, "You got it. I just hope you don't make yourself sick before the fun tonight." I shake my head as I wait for her to pay for it and say, "Not going to happen. I plan on trying to make this last all day". She laughs and we go to school.

AMELIA The taste of truffled chocolate, filled with cherry liqueur, floods my palate at the first bite and in a few seconds the hormones of happiness are stimulated, causing little sighs of pleasure to come out of my throat. That was the dessert he left for me. I finish all the chocolates in a few minutes, wondering with every bite how the son of a bitch knows my preference for chocolate, right this one should be a candy appreciated by almost everyone, but how can he know that this one is my FAVORITE.

Whenever he tried to make me talk, I'd silence him, calling him a sadistic anti-chocolate man for not letting me enjoy my drink. That brought us to our present, with me intentionally moaning loud at the taste of this insanely delicious hot chocolate while the devil sat beside me with narrowed eyes. His cup was still untouched and I was itching to steal it for myself. Would that really be stealing, though? I mean, the man clearly had no interest in drinking that.

The scent of sweet vanilla and rich chocolate filled the air, pulling me from the depths of despair. A generous scoop of vanilla ice cream formed the base, with thick ribbons of dark chocolate syrup cascading down its sides. A swirl of impossibly light whipped cream crowned the peak, dotted with a shower of colourful sprinkles that sparkled like tiny jewels. And a single, perfect maraschino cherry, glistening like a ruby, rested on top. My heart hammered against my ribs. I couldn't speak. Who was this person? A phantom? A guardian angel sent to me in my moment of need? How could she have known the one thing I craved right now more than anything in the world?

I closed my eyes. I hated how good it felt. His palms worked down to my lower back, then my thighs. My body melted under him. My mind didn’t. He leaned close. “Better?” I nodded, too dazed to answer out loud. He broke a piece of the chocolate and pressed it gently to my lips. I opened my mouth, let the taste melt on my tongue, dark, bittersweet, spiced with something I couldn’t name. He let his fingers linger just a second longer at the corner of my mouth.

“Why does it taste like perfume?” I burst out laughing. “It’s refined,” Miranda defended gently. “It’s confusing,” Debbie countered. The caterer looked mildly alarmed. I waved reassuringly. “We’re enjoying this. I promise.” We began ranking them loudly and dramatically. “Chocolate is winning,” Debbie declared. “Vanilla has grace,” Miranda argued. “Honey almond has meaning,” I added. They both looked at me. “Meaning?” Debbie asked. “Yes,” I said slowly. “It feels symbolic.”

He brandished the thing that seemed to look like a chocolate bar in front of my face. I gave him a deadpanned look. 'Seriously, a chocolate bar? Death by cavities?' He was out of his marbles. What on earth could a chocolate do? He smirked. 'Look closely. It's not an ordinary chocolate.' I peered closely at the packaging. 'Chocolax.' I said. He nodded. 'It's a laxative in a form of a chocolate. Pretty much popular for girls who wanted to lose weight without feeling the guilt.' Now I'm confused. What was he planning about to do with the laxative? I frowned. 'Your point being?' I asked.

Ravi knew he wasn't eating the chocolate bar now, but he could smell the intense aroma of chocolate enveloping him, as if it were tightly wrapping around Ravi and floating in the air, making Ravi involuntarily take a deep breath because he suddenly liked it very much. "Ravi, the chocolate is sweet. Just like Ravi."