buttercream frosting. I dollop them with a thick Chantilly cream. I dust everything with cinnamon and sugar. I ornament the shortbread with chocolate bonbons and toasted coconut. I cover the shutters in maple bark and peanut brittle. Shards of sugar crust under my nails, though I hardly eat at all anymore. All day I smell sugar and eat nothing, my skin growing loose around my bones. After a while you would hardly know my perfect house is a sphere at all. You would look at it and see nothing more than a gingerbread house and surely you would be enticed. You might want to taste it. ♦
14 | Psychopomp Magazine