The room always felt full and anxious at dinner time. Bodies
gurgled and flapped, and cried for food. When the breads came, or the grains,
or the pastas, with the meats, they were observed, poked, and flipped. They
were thrown and stolen and re-stolen. But seldom eaten. Confused corpse like
being turned their noses up and sobbed for anything else. The quieter ones, the
less ‘sever’ ones, ate quietly, picking up the bits they liked, curled up in
corners, hoping that they wouldn’t be the victim of an unexpected outburst of
anger. They left without saying thank you.
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