Carrots

A flash fiction for a creative writing class about my hate for carrots.

Yuck.  Who would eat those?  Playing in the snow one winter, my brother Julian and I tried to make a snowman, and like every child, I rushed past the buried picnic table to fetch a carrot for the nose.  Coming back, I looked at the enormous carrot and considered eating it.  In a moment, I could taste the strict, bitter taste of the vegetable everyone said was "good for your eyes."

Later that night, mom wanted me to try carrots for the "first time" but I told her my snowman story.  She was skeptical and she asked, "if you won't eat them now, when will you eat them?"

I picked an age that seemed like a hundred to me: "when I'm sixteen."

Yeah, right!

I'm seventeen now and, other than in a soup, I will not eat carrots.  Ever.  Again.