i’m pretty sure the croissant i ate for breakfast this morning
had mold on it, but i’m not positive,
i wouldn’t be bold enough to claim that i’m a mold expert,
or anything of the sort,
but i do kinda feel a little sick to my stomach,
and i might have to go home early,
though that might just be because i don’t feel like working today
either
olivia puts down the magazine she had been reading for the past half hour when her name is called. she looks around to confirm that there are no other olivia’s in the room that the stern looking woman with brunette hair pulled back too tightly might be referring to.
no one else budges. so olivia continues to get up from her sedentary position. her joints in her leg creak a little. her knees feel stale. her skin tightens with horripilation. as she walks over to the large metallic swinging doors, she thinks, i forgot to eat breakfast. but she didn’t need to, either way.
when i don’t have breakfast,
i go hungry for the rest of the day,
even if i eat something at noon,
even if i eat something at dusk,
there’s a growing pit in me
that can’t seem to reach satiation,
so i begin to eat inward
Fred Aiken Writing 