Breakfast's Answer

Mmm... the cool morning breeze, the warm sunlight, and breakfast.

February 1. Hash brown? Alright. Sunny side-up? Fine.
So I took my fork and sliced the egg with it. I dragged the sliced egg white to a slice of the potato, scooped them, opened up and chewed. Nothing special. Breakfast.

I always avoided breakfast. I would either force myself to wake up by lunchtime or go to school without eating at all. "Forget about cold, dry sunny side-ups and oily ham," I would tell myself. "You have better breakfast in your dreams."

Breakfast. I continued with the pattern: slicing, scooping, opening, chewing and swallowing. What got me through it was the imaginations I had. Since not much of my brain was needed to eat that abomination, I was able to create stories in my head--as I always do.

I imagined I was someone else--a lady in the Victorian era, with a British accent. I was amused for a few minutes and then a new idea came. It wasn't about an impossible dream, it was doable. It was about the egg and the potato. "Put the egg yolk on top of the hash brown," I thought. My face turned a raisin--wrinkly and weird--with a huge smile.

I acted on it. I lifted the combination to my mouth and bit. The warm wet yolk oozed as if golden sand pouring. I sipped the oozing yolk, and bit once more.

The light bulb inside my head flashed. "Your tongue is right," the bulb said. "The yolk with the potato--it-it's different."
I imagined my mouth lighting up, forming the sunrise I used to draw as a kid--the sun rising between two mountains. Suddenly, I knew my day was going to be, as my breakfast was, different.

On to Route Food

"I want sundae,"I hinted at Chinky.
"Let's go?"
We both flashed gigantic smiles. And on to McDonald's it was.

Two plain sundaes and regular fries after:
"Let's buy a bucket of chicken from KFC!"
I laughed, and then froze. "Seriously?"
"It's alright, I'm hungry," Chinky answered without kidding.
My eyes roared as my head scrambled for a way out of emptying our wallets.
"Aha!" I thought. "Don't they have fun shots?"
She smiled.
On to KFC it was.

A carton of regular fun shots after:
"Do you want to do something else?" I asked.
"No. But I don't want to go home yet."
My eyes flung back at hers. "I just saw a man carrying a plastic of brownies."
The wind blew.
"Sambos!" we both exclaimed.
On to Brownies Unlimited it was.

Nothing to do on a Saturday--except to eat. If only the rain hadn't come, would we have eaten our way to emptying our wallets.