I take a sip of juice and want to toss it across the room.
This is disgusting,!!!! I scream silently to myself. Why do I torture myself so? Since it's my ONLY sustenance for the entire day, I have no other food options!!! I am the Silent Scream, by Edward Munch.
The offending juice is beet, carrot, celery, cucumber, disguised in a blender with a banana, kale, and chia seeds. Always in a hurry to get out the door, I never taste my morning concoctions; I'm fully aware of the risk, but this day, it is by far the worst combination ever.
So the next morning I experiment to make it palatable, even tasty. I've run out of protein powder, so I toss in a chunk of tofu. I replace the carrot and beet juice, with almond milk, peel a juicy orange, a banana, add some frozen peaches. Certainly this will be fine-tasting sustenance.
I've blown it again. Did I forget how distinctly bland and awful tofu is before it's fried and doused with red pepper sauce? The tofu infused juice is so bad, I am more content to not eat than eat. Thank goodness for the grapes and almonds I threw into the blue-flowered insulated lunch bag, that always reminds of the friend who delivered live lobster, two Christmas Eve's ago, in this bag I now use for lunch.
At the end of this long school day, in this state of self-imposed deprivation, I walk into the teacher's workroom to make copies for the next day; and this is when I spy on a far-away table, like a hawk who spies a mouse a mile below, what appears to be a chocolate brownie. Hunger has never known such sharp eyesight. I move closer to inspect.
Usually, food found on the teacher's table at day's end isn't worthy of a sniff, but the clear plastic dome has a label, and it's a higher-end restaurant and bakery. I'm interested. I lift the cover and find not one, but two decadent-looking brownies smothered in caramel and nuts. There's no hesitation; the decision was made with the first sift of my tofu, spinach, kale juice.