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- Night One
- Looking down at my plate, I see the browned form of a well-prepared meat. Sixteen ounces of it. I dig my fork into a corner, and watch satisfied as the familiar juices squeeze out of the meat for a second before bringing the knife into play. I can’t help but admire and turn the knife over as I pick it up; below the lone swinging light bulb hanging above me , the blade glows with an almost otherworldly radiance. Then I stab it into the meat, right next to the fork.
- With a little pressure, I drag the knife towards me, tearing the meat and leaving a trail of fats in doing so. Only a little bit is tethered to the main body of the steak now. I pin down the meat with my fork, dug firmly into the center mass while I slash at the thin strips separating my current desire from the body. It’s released, and I dig the knife into the half ovaloid shaped piece of meat, before popping it into my mouth.
- I chew a bit, before letting it sit there and taste the juices draining out; suckling on the meat in an almost infantile state. I feel the zesty liquids spread down my throat, as I mash the corner into pulp, each tooth serving it’s purpose in breaking down the meat. My molars do most of the work, though.
- My indulgence is disrupted however, when my telephone rings. I let it go to voicemail as I cut another chunk of meat away.
- “H-hello? Mitch? Your partner, Jane…”
- I stab a part of my breakfast, and suck it between my lips.
- “She didn’t, uh, show up last time.”
- I lean over to my right and grab the phone off it’s station. I wait for him to continue before
- “You’re gonna have to come into work soon.
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