I just had the best brownie ever. Baked to perfection - the edges are hard, but chewy-hard not crumbly-hard. There were solid chocolate chips throughout the cake. Lightly sprinkled with sugar. Paired with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream, it was good. But do you know what made it great? I ate it when everyone in the house was sleeping. I carefully snuck out in the dark of the night to bake this brownie. I stuffed the gap between the floor and the kitchen door with towels so the “ding” didn’t wake anyone up. I fucking Solid Snake’d my way across the living room taking care not to wake my fucking sis who fell asleep there for some stupid reason. I baked the brownie and it was all mine. I didn’t need to share or anything. It’s mine and mine alone. Usually I would bake something and someone who ask for a slice and I would fake a smile and give one to them while I silently fume. Not this time. MY brownie. MY ice cream. MINE. Avarice and immorality enhances the flavour by a thousandfold.

I still love my family, though.