Two Small Pieces of Pie

Okay, so you're wandering in the aisles of Sunshine Foods, the pleasant treasure of a spinach quiche riding in your midsection, just along for the ride since your spouse has asked you pleasantly to go along for company, and you've got it in mind to ferret out a little dessert item, something to top off the quiche, tamp it down with a lump of sweetness, passing by the Oreos, the "home-made" O'Henry bars, the four-dollar brownies in the bakery section, and then the thought of a little pie takes hold of you like a mental lasso, towing you down the frozen foods aisle, where Mrs. Smith and her ilk linger to lure the appetite with real pies--apple, peach, French silk--but you resist, one hand clutching the cold chrome handle of the case, and your eye lingers on the smaller boxes, Mrs. Smith's sidekick Edwards, an unassuming product offering of two pieces of pie--Key Lime--and you waver, your hand reaching in to bring it in, bring it home, where, on a plate, it's not to be denied, small as it may be, fresh from its yellow cardboard wedge, a serious, albeit small, piece of pie indeed, and the first taste is golden, the next better, the rest delicious, creamy, lime lime lime, a very fine pie indeed, worth the trip, worth eating slowly, slowly, every bite a miracle.