peaches

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
bits of things

Submitted: March 09, 2016

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Submitted: March 09, 2016

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The orange sludge in the Mickey Mouse bowl looked less than appetizing. I stirred it with a tiny plastic spoon, but it didn't help at all. I glanced back at the small glass jar, frowned at the picture of the smiling, cherubic baby on the label. I doubted that baby actually ate this tangerine slime.

It was all I was getting for lunch today, though. I raised my spoon in salute to the happy, fat infant.

“Peaches!” I said, my voice echoing in the girl’s restroom, sounding like a shout. I shoved the spoon in my mouth.

After two days of fasting, the baby food tasted like nectar. I dropped the spoon on the dirty linoleum floor, tipped the bowl to my lips and drank it straight down. My tongue bathed the bowl like a starved dog (which in retrospect, I was). I grabbed the jar, my fingers scrabbling for the thin orange film remaining inside of it.

I paused to take a breath, and realized I had hardly taken any during my baby food orgy of consumption. I looked at the bowl in dismay. I was only supposed to eat half a jar that day. Visions of my prom dress helped me find the strength to shove my sticky fingers down my throat, face the toilet, and start over.


© Copyright 2017 M. J. Governo. All rights reserved.

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