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Last Bite (a monologue)

August 31, 2011

JEN

The last bite is mine, right? I mean I wasn’t counting but he was certainly eating faster than I was. He gets a little lost when he’s eating. He doesn’t get that that’s why I stare at him. He should let that be my piece. That’s the gentlemanly thing for him to do. I am sending brain waves to that effect. He’s smiling at me, that dopey smile. He really loves me. Maybe he should have it.  He is bigger than me. A lot bigger then me. He should eat more food. I don’t need it. But I did do yoga today, so it’s not like it would hurt. I earned it right?. We’re both looking at it. This is ridiculous. He knows it’s mine. He really wants it though. He’s trying to gauge how bad I want it. He’s really bad at gauging, though. So I should just take it right? Did he move his fork? He did and I made some face. I’ve called it now. I couldn’t help it. It was an involuntary face. He tried and my face said no. I’ll split it. No. He should have it. He has to put up with me. I wonder if he thinks this way. He doesn’t look like he thinks this way. He probably doesn’t want to leave anything behind. I’m a really bad sharer. We’re not gonna work cause I’m a bad sharer. He’s a bad sharer. He stopped smiling. If he wants it he should take it, if we were animals he would just take it. (chewing) OH MY GOD! The cherries! With the—Oh my god. This is so good.

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