161 Physics and the Near Occasion of Sin

My diet failed again.

The latest in a long string of fad diets, I hoped to tip my scale in the negative direction. But going back in time, even one calorie at a time, is a cosmically challenging proposal.

I knew that just another pound would mean a final, tragic summation--enough weight to finally and irretrievably cross the Chandrasekhar limit and undergo gravitational collapse.

I eyed the frosted, glazed donut, what topologists call a ring torus; what I call the devil!

Donuts are the only food that laugh at you. Hardly food, a donut is a dare. It's a wager that it cannot remain uneaten (nay, un-gobbled).

I circled my uneaten donut's event horizon, salivating. The closer I got, the more time slowed and the longer my suffering. Does slowed time increase suffering, or does suffering slow down time? Is hunger a fifth force? No wonder the Grand Unification Theory goes unsolved!

The rest of the world ignores my existential relativity. All of those thin, beautiful, toned, jogging, Pilates people--living hungry--were stronger than me. As such, my weakness was my genetics. It was the fault in my stars!

While the rest of the world went hungrily on its way, my donut and my life were irrelevant to it. This was my problem, only.

The Baltimore Catechism defined the occasion of sin as...

“...all the persons, places and things that may easily lead us into sin.”

The guy behind the counter; the bakery itself; and the glistening donuts racked expectantly (seemingly exponentially) behind the glass: my very persons, places, and things of temptation.

I prayed...

“I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace, to sin no more, and to avoid the near occasions of sin.”

My pancreas just laughed at me, dumping the insulin into my system at the obscene rate to which it was accustomed. Thus, my blood sugar plunged, adding yet another urgency to my addiction--my love affair with food.

My orbit around my donut constricted. Time slowed more. Soon, the donut and I would be entangled, indistinguishable, flesh-from-dough.

Of course.

It happened. The donut and I became one.

The laws of physics still applied: I underwent nutritional collapse and became a donut hole.

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AUTHOR'S NOTES:

For Sunday, June 9, Day 161 of the Story-a-Day Challenge

(June 9, or "6-9," as its pervertedly designated, is National Sex Day. --do the math. And sometimes donuts are better than sex! Donuts after sex? How could it get any better?)

366 WORDS (without A/N)

Title-accompaniment photo was AI-generated (Artificial Insulinated), but the ring tori were not.

ABOUT THIS STORY:

I'm about all quantum'd out on subject ideas for now. I promise the next one won't even have a single quark in it!

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There are currently three surviving Vocal writers still participating in the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge:

• L.C. Schäfer, challenge originator

• Rachel Deeming

• Gerard DiLeo (some other guy)

Read them. Support them. And watch them deplete their blood sugars, since 25% of all glucose is consumed by the brain.