Call Me E.

Call Me E.
all stories and essays by Sean Rein

Bacon

Dear Bacon,

I know that we have been apart for a long time now, and it still pains me to be separated from your hickory-smoked lovin'.

I blame our breakup on Dr. Schaffer. That fat bastard told me that I had a high cholesterol level and said I should cut butter and pork out of my diet. Now the two of us suffer for that incompetent quack.

I know that there were some bad times between us. In my youth, I did enjoy a peanut butter, bacon, and marshmallow fluff sandwich. What can I say? I liked the taste, and it grossed out girls at lunchtime.

Still, I can't forget all of the good times we had together. At night, I think about all of the times I fried liver and onions in your heavenly excretions.

Truth be told, I am still in love with you. Heck, if it was socially acceptable, I'd cure you in my trouser leg.

Please come back to me bacon. I'll be waiting beside the stove with your favorite cast-iron skillet and my best meat fork.

Love,

Sean