You inhale and sigh. You place your fingers on the temporalis muscle that twitches. And look at what’s in front of you.
You’ve been taught to appreciate, to be humble. You know that a great effort went into making the meal. Not to mention the hard work of the farmers and delivery men who provided the ingredients.
You want to run away. From the plate full of food. From the chair that you sit on. From the room that nags, “Aren’t you hungry? Aren’t you well? Eat your vegetables. They’re good for you.”
And you…
PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young
What does nelkumi think? 
Great picture created 😊
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Thank you☺️
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Yes, I know the feeling. There is a sense of taunting and to psych someone out, an unease here, and a building of nervous alarm. Watch out for that knife.
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Bwahahaha…
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I don’t blame the ‘you’ for wanting to get all from all that pressure. Well done.
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Thank you
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Well, first I had to look up the temporalis muscle, and in doing so I got sidetracked into all sorts of interesting anatomical information :).
I’m wondering–is the “you” confined to this room? Is the food unappealing because she just has to eat what she’s given?
Thought-provoking, Nelkumi.
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Thank you, Ms. Linda
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was she also reminded of kids starving somewhere around the world? 🙂
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Possible…
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Sounds like the rationalizations of a person with an eating disorder. My heart goes out to this person.
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We never know what’s truly going on…
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I felt the tension here. Well done!
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Thank you!
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Sometimes the ‘love’ that goes into creating a meal can be oppressive.
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Indeed
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