by Eric Nicholson

First of all, I thought it was my best friend. Not my partner; he wouldn’t have had the imagination. On the first day of each month, the postman would be there holding the package. Or if I wasn’t in, I’d collect it from the Post Office Depot. He or she must have thought I would make each offering last a month (it was a large box), but to be honest, I demolished the first gift in only a week.

By the third month I realised the gift must have come from an enemy. Yes, I adored dark chocolate, but dark, sinister chocolate, no! And I don’t use the word “sinister” lightly. I’m not sure if they were trying to poison me, but I became allergic to normal food. I craved dark chocolate. I could only eat what I came to call, “dark, sinister chocolate” and lost a stone in four months. And then another stone . . .

Eric Nicholson is now retired. He worked as an ESOL teacher and also worked in other fields of education. Now in his retirement, he enjoys countryside conservation, writing and walking. Published in and