She closed her eyes and leaned forward, and whispered: “Give me some sugar, baby.”
“I only have Splenda,” he told her.
She pulled back, blinked a couple of times, then tried again. Eyes closed, leaning forward, she said, “Give me some Splenda, baby.”
He opened a little paper packet and poured the white chemical on her tongue. It tasted sweet enough, but not quite the same. She sighed.
“I can’t get used to this modern love,” she told him.
“I’m plastic,” he replied.