Hunger Pains

August Remier

Man, I'm hungry. There was nothing to eat in the house so I ordered a large pizza and ate the whole thing: but I'm still starving. So I searched for something, anything, to eat. Couldn't find a thing. Not a slice of bread, not a cracker, not even a crumb. I scoured the cupboards, the fridge, the seat cushions, the floor, behind the stove---nothin' I had to look elsewhere.

That's when I ate my pride. It was too hard to bite or chew, so I swallowed it whole. Nearly choked on the damn thing, but I managed to get it down. It wasn't enough though, I wanted, needed more.

So I boiled my self-esteem. Each mouthful more bitter than the last. My stomach growled for more.

I whipped up a bowl of pity. Creamy and sweet, it went down easy.

Love? There hasn't been any of that around here for a long time. No, I stopped looking for that. Instead I drank my tears and belched my apologies.

Then I found a bit of hope. Stale and moldy as it was, I took a bite. That was a mistake, I couldn't keep it down. Just made room for more.

Confidence was a tasty morsel: meaty and juicy.

That was it. There was nothing left. I've eaten it all and it's left me so I can't get out of bed (having doubled and redoubled my size). But that's OK; I don't need to go anywhere. I'm not hungry, for now. Tomorrow it starts all over again.

Copyright ©2001 August Remier. All Rights Reserved.

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April, 2001 Issue #60

256 Words

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