Drabbling.
Once they threw out a whole bowl of stew. I scraped off the mold and had a couple good meals, and a new bowl to boot. Another time they threw out a rug. Stained, but warm around me in the cold nights. Mostly it was just bits though – a chicken leg with some meat still on, the peels from vegetables. Nights after their dinner parties were the best for scrapings. There’d also be candle stubs, and wine dregs in bottles. Flowers too.
I saw her once, as I crept out one evening. And she saw me. In a way we shared a table.
Oh, good one. Makes me uncomfortable.
Raq, that's fantastic. I love the last two sentences especially.
Jesus, Raq. That's killer.
DG, if you are still looking for pre-readers. I am here at the profile addy.
Pre-readers are worth their weight in gold. Someday, I will be valued similarly at my weight.
Crap. This analogy has gone South in a major way.
Thanks guys - the last two sentences were the hardest.
Gus, you are worth your weight in bauxite.
Heh.
Guys, since this is going to be shorter than the Seal essay - BTW, if anyone hasn't read that and wants to, give a yell, because I think it may be the best nonfiction I've ever written and I'm seriously pleased with it - I'm going to finish it up in the morning, and beg for beta reads.
Satiation
The salad was huge: romaine hearts, roasted red peppers, artichokes, pine nuts, feta cheese, figs, apples and the thinnest of prosciuttos laid over the top. A caddy holding the extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar sat in the middle of the table. Fresh ground pepper from a knurled wooden grinder floated down over the salad like a black ash fall of flavor—a wake up call to a healthy dinner.
Later that evening, she dug through the snotty tissues, vegetable peelings, coffee grounds and egg shells searching for the half of a Snickers bar she’d thrown out that morning.
You've got a nice way with the the food issues, Sail.
Edited to be specific: that one leaves me feeling "Oh, we've all been there, haven't we?" even though I haven't.
