Popcorn

 In the most graphic detail you can imagine, describe a seemingly mundane act like drinking a cup of water, or being stuck in traffic. Tune in to all your senses, to every sight, sound, texture, taste and emotion you can muster. 


Pop! The first of many explosions coming out of my microwave as I wait for my tasty treat to finally be ready. And then another two "Pops!" and that delicious scent of butter is drifting into my nose and can feel my mouth start to water. 
I sit there staring at the bag spin within, hoping, praying that it doesn't burn. In my head I say to myself, "I hope it doesn't burn, it's gross when it's burnt.". The scent is getting stronger and seconds seem to be ticking slower and slower. 
Finally, I hear the "Beep! Beep! Beep!." and I know my snack is ready. Every rugged yet soft piece, covered in melted butter, more satisfying than the last. The salty, sweet taste is too much. I grab handful after handful trying not to think about when the time comes when my hand will come up empty and I won't be able to enjoy any more. Until then, I sit back and enjoy whatever is currently playing on the television, although it doesn't matter, I'll enjoy anything if I have some freshly popped popcorn.
To my dismay, the time comes and all that remains are the, ever so hard, kernels. Am I still hungry? No, but I'm going to try and eat them without cracking my teeth anyway. They're not nearly as satisfying... or soft... or delicious, but I continue to inhale every last kernel until the bag is entirely empty.