Spine Crackers Novels & Stories

“No. But you grew up there, right? Don’t you miss it?” He shrugged, pulling his T-shirt off. “Not really. I mean, yeah, I miss some stuff. Like proper fish and chips, and Crunchies, and people talking properly.” I shoved his arm properly. “What’s a Crunchie?” “Honeycomb covered in chocolate. You’ve never heard of a Crunchie?” “You just told me you miss them, so what makes you think I’ve heard of them?” His dark eyes settled on mine, glinting with amusement. “I can tell you’re better. Your mouth is back.” He stepped forward, shirtless, and ran his thumb over my bottom lip.

With the amount her father donates to the school every year, Vanessa was held in high prestige at Seattle high school. "What can I do for you, dear?", Mr. Bull asked in his nicest voice. Vanessa took her seat in front of his table and spoke up. "I have cramps all over my body", she said with a pitiful pout. Mr. Bull was confused at first. If she has cramps all over her body, then why is she here? What does she mean exactly? "Oh okay, I will make sure to place a call to the school nurse then", he finally said after a while.

Cracking my graham cracker in half and putting chocolate on one piece, I placed the marshmallow in the middle, using the top cracker to pull it off. Monica stood in front of me as I held it up for her to take a bite. Marshmallow oozed out the sided but her eyes popped out of her head. Her little eyes rolled in the back of her head as she moaned in happiness. Everyone busted up laughing at her reaction.

I´m comfortable that I´m not letting the side down. I´ve got to admit, James´ crackers are minor works of art. He must have paid a lot for them. After a small tug-o-war, the cracker Snaps! and splits, and Beth gets the larger part. It contains the usual hat and bad joke, and a small but very expensive bottle of perfume; the kind where if you have to ask the price, you probably can´t afford it. "Oh, it´s lovely!" she exclaims. "I only ever buy this as a real treat for myself."

"Xander, listen carefully. Even if I can't find a job and have to set up a food stall, I'll never step one foot into the McNeil residence ever again! Sal and I won't starve! Stay away from us!" After saying that, she hung up right away and blocked his number. … A few days later, a small stall was set up outside the orphanage's big iron gate. An old cart, a blazing coal stove, and on top of it stood a shiny big iron pot! Mom wore a faded apron and had her hair neatly tied up. She began selling some authentic Southern delicacies—country-fried chicken, flapjacks, and hearty macaroni and cheese. And what was the most eye-catching was the pot bubbling away with…

“No, but come on, cheese and crackers are obviously the best possible option here. First of all, you had the foresight to bring a soft cheese, so we won’t need a knife to cut it; we can just use the crackers to pull off bits and spread it with our fingers. And second, have you ever not enjoyed cheese and crackers? Ever not thought, ‘Oh boy, these cheese and crackers are exactly what I need right now’?” She considered for a moment. “Stop, no, stop even thinking about it,” he said. “You know the answer is no. Cheese and crackers are objectively the perfect snack.” She laughed and pried his fingers away from the box of crackers. “Okay, fine, you’re right. But you didn’t manage to talk me into s

He pulled out a pack of crackers and, with that faint, hesitant smile he always wore, offered them to me. I wanted to take them—oh, how I wanted to—but my mood was too sour, too prickly to let myself accept anything from him. So, I quietly ignored him, acting as if he hadn’t done anything at all. “Is that crackers?” Monica whispered from behind, craning her neck to peek above our seat. “Yes,” Justin replied softly. “Wow… I love crackers!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “I can’t remember the last time I had a chance to eat these… Can I have it since he doesn’t want it?”

Spiny legs, creepy antennae, and roasted thoraxes decorated the plate. Kris smirked as he shoved the platter closer. “Many tribes in Africa consider crickets a delicacy. Their crunchy bodies are a convenient snack when you have long distances to travel. I insist that you try some.” Abby’s pounding heart pumped tingling terror throughout her limbs, blocking out Kris’s taunts. Cold sweat coated her brow as she stared down at her worst nightmare. She refused to give in to a panic attack while she stood vulnerable, in a room with two snakes. Pain lanced through her chest as panic attempted to take hold, and she steadied her breathing.

he says gently, "in the days when they gave out grants to students. I didn't have to pay my university fees, I only had to find enough money to live on. Extraordinary measures were not necessary for me...." Across the table, Elizabeth is reaching out a hand. "Charlotte...." ... but Michael breaks in. "Crackers!" he says. "Come on, James. Let's see what's so interesting about your mysterious crackers." The crackers are indeed works of art.... Handmade to order? .... certainly not your standard 'twenty in a box' from the supermarket variety. Each one is sumptuously beautiful and slightly different in design. Michael offers his to Elizabeth, eyes creasing as he speaks. "Come on, Beth, pull a cr

I badly want to bite it, but this man's not letting me. “Zev, what are we doing?” I asked in frustration. I crossed my arms and played with the hem of my shirt. I'm not used to this kind of set-up. With Derone, it's just lips and no talk, no clothes and more skin. But with Zev, he makes me realize how I'm willingly throwing myself to Derone and that I should be ashamed of what I'm doing. He grabbed the cigarette stick that was resting on his ear and dug something out of his pocket. A lighter.