I licked my oily, salty fingers with glee.

William was beaming, massively satisfied.

The crowded restaurant buzzed with

small talk and canned music. I’d have

loved to place another food order, but

my mind swarmed with lurid scenes of

starvation. I needed to raise more cash.

I thought of selling some items at the

pawnbrokers. Mother had taken me

along when I was younger. I remembered

the drill. I’d be able to pawn some of

Mother’s jewellery, maybe her special

dress watch. We wouldn’t raise much

cash, but we’d be able to eat. The matter

was settled. Feeling reckless, happy, I

ordered more fries.

Author: Robert James Berry

Poet & Novelist

34 thoughts on “Fries”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *