Colin Nissan

“Goodbye, mysterious vending-machine baked good. I will never forget your number, E5, but I must forget you. I must forget the throat-burning sweetness of your frosting, and the faded mystery of your expiration date. While I may still stop by your machine on occasion, it will be only to press my hand against the glass in a gesture of longing. If you had a hand, I know you’d do the same.”