Back Home
You get home and immediately go to the fridge to get a steak out. Sticking it onto the frypan. But as it starts sizzling you suddenly realize that if you cook it, it will lose all it’s blood. Quickly, you turn off the stove, and take the steak out, putting it on a plate. You sit down at the table and stare at the steak...then you grab it with both hands and begin ripping into it with your teeth.
You are about halfway through when you suddenly realise what you are doing and you toss it back onto the plate before getting the cutlery to finish it off. You must've been really hungry to use your hands. You didn’t eat at all today.
But no matter how you try, the fork seems alien to you. You stare at it and look at the knife as well. What are your teeth for? A voice in your head asks. "What indeed?" You say aloud. Looking around you see no one around, shrug, then pick the steak up again and resume your messy eating.
Soon the steak is gone, and all that is left is licking your hands clean. You look at the dirty plate and growl. Why did you dirty the plate in the first plate, you now need to clean that as well. Licking it clean before washing it in the sink.
You give a deep rumble in your throat. That steak really hit the spot. You look at the time. Already 8 PM. You could go to bed, or watch some Tv..or...the night is young. Maybe you should explore outside, or possibly even the zoo?
Written by Cason Whitlock + Catprog on 21 July 2015
