There's nothing about me that I feel like telling you today.
All I can say is: Humpf.
But that wouldn't be much of a post. And I'm supposed to be posting every day. So I guess I'll just make up a story. Okay, part of a story. I'll finish it later, maybe.
At dinner my mom hands me a foil package and says nothing but
it's from annie.
I roll my eyes and unwrap it, cringing even before I see the lump of bread I know is inside. This time it's brownish grey and speckled with darker dots. I don't even want to know what it's really made of. I close the foil back up.
maybe you shouldn't throw it away
what, eat it? this?
My gag reflex kicks in at the very thought. But there's something in her voice that makes me stop. Not really a tone but a catch in her words that I've grown up with and learned to love and to hate and it means that whatever she's saying is probably right. I hate being wrong.
But I peel back the foil again and give it a timid sniff. It makes me think about
sweat and grass and tears and puke and so much sun
What the hell. I shove half of it in my mouth -- it's only the size of a small roll. The taste doesn't hit me until I swallow. It's weird. Not bad, just...weird. Like not really a taste at all but a clenching of all my taste buds into a single point at the center of my tongue. I eat the other half as I walk up the stairs to my room.
Then it's homework and bed and a whole school day. None of that matters. It's what happens next that completely changes my life.