I wanted to ask her why she didn’t love me anymore, but I just asked instead why we were out of soup.
I ate it, she said. I was hungry.
I knew this was fair. But I was hungry, too. And now there was no more soup.
There are carrots, she offered, and some celery.
I ate them all. The pears, too. And all of the protein bars. My stomach kept growling for more, insatiable and greedy. I tried to suppress it with the palms of my hands and quiet its wanting.
She didn’t look up at me. I knew she could feel the rumble resonate in her feet, tremble her foundation, but she seemed undisturbed.
There wasn’t anything left to eat.
I went to bed thinking to myself next time I’d make soup for two.
Paige Zubel, 18, is a senior at Houston’s High School for the Performing and Visual Arts studying theatre.
This story is sponsored by
StoryADay — StoryADay May is an extreme writing challenge for short story writers. Write every day, not “some day”.
