Jess A. Smith
Bio
Words can spew and caress. They are both feathers and frigidity- tools to incite change or chaos. Words are powerful, and when strewn together with intention, who knows what they can create.
Stories (3/0)
Three Times a Day
“You have to show them you are making an effort,” I said through clenched teeth, the sweet potato coating my mouth with carbs. “I know it’s hard, and I’d like to say it gets easier, but I’ve been here for over two months now and have done this three times a day...I’m still struggling.” I shrugged, no use in sugar coating it for the newbies. “What’s your name?” I asked, trying to distract her from the task at hand-cleaning her plate. “Mel,” she answered, but I knew that look. It was the look of horror and nothing I said at this point was going to help poor Mel in completing her gambit. I turned to Francesca and Char in hopes of some sort of conversation; the truth was I was the one who needed distraction. If I could talk and eat at the same time, I could usually manage to not think about the fat, carbs, sugar and calories taking over my body with every mouthful of this torture we called sharing a meal. Francesca was looking a bit pale, I noticed as she glared vehemently at the sweet potato in front of her, the last obstacle on her plate. I was a bit jealous; she had already finished the chicken breast and broccolini. “That’s why I start with the hardest part first,” I joked, motioning to my half eaten spud. Char chimed in with a peppy “Me too!” and Francesca joined Mel on team silence and horror. I shrugged at Char and took another bite. “Are you ready for group session?” She asked, chewing. “Not like we have much of a choice”, I answered, trying to push the conversation along as I took mouthful number four of orange goop; “Looks like we have two new people today, so it should be interesting at least.” I glanced over at Mel, still in shock, and the other newcomer sitting alone at the end of the long cafeteria table we were all forced to eat at. A guy. He was the only one. He was actually the only one I had seen since arriving here. I decided to pick up my plate and head towards him, in selfish hopes of striking up a conversation that lasted long enough to finish my meal.
By Jess A. Smith3 years ago in Feast
