Pamela

“Stop that,” Spencer said. “You’re eating a dead person’s marshmallows.” “Don’t say that. She’s dearly departed,” I said, and ate another marshmallow. “Pinky, put down the marshmallows,” he said, like he was talking me off a bridge. “That’s dead person’s marshmallows. I’ll get you your own marshmallows. I promise.” We locked eyes, and something clicked in my brain. I spit out the marshmallow. “Oh my God, you’re right. I’ve been eating dead person marshmallows. I mean, dearly departed marshmallows. Cadaver sweets. Corpse dessert.” I clutched at my throat as something else occurred to me. “What if the marshmallows are poisonous?” Spencer shrugged. “Then, I guess I’ll become the town’s most eligible bachelor, again.”
― Elise Sax, Slay Misty For Me