Today is day 13 and there is still no end in sight. Tomorrow it will be two weeks since she left me, taking the boys with her. I work and sleep, work and sleep, occasionally breaking the pattern for some small crumb of sustenance from my ever diminishing reserves.
Yesterday I spotted a quarter pounder deluxe through a throng of rancid natives, their foetid breath and disheveled rags were a warning not to approach, but I had grown desperate, and would brook no hindrance.
Forcing my way through the painted tribes people, their faces masking their malevolent intent, I cornered the creature amidst a nest of wild fries. We faced one another for a few seconds, each awaiting the other’s move – and then I sprang.
Like a serpent’s strike, my hand was too fast for the hapless creature. I grasped it, lettuce dangling helplessly in a pincer grip, slowly squeezing the life sauce from it’s sagging bun. With primordial savagery I tore into the beast, my teeth rending the flesh and bun alike, lettuce and gherkin bursting in all directions.
In a few short minutes the deed was done. The pitiful fries submitted to my raging appetite and were soon no more, a few crispy fragments remained, a mere echo of what once was. A powerful thirst came upon me and my eyes fell to regarding the tall, gaudy vessel that the native girl had placed beside the nest.
I sniffed suspiciously, then put my tongue to the top and tilted. A cool liquid, stinging but pleasant nonetheless, encountered my palette and I began gulping with gusto. I drained every last drop from the vessel, discarding it with the flimsy exoskeletal remains of the quarter pounder deluxe.
A great pressure accompanied by stabbing pain rose from deep within me until I could no-longer contain it. I threw back my head and let out an almighty belch. The pain subsided immediately, the natives stepping away from me in fear and admiration.
Sensing the moment to grasp my freedom, I strode boldly away and was soon lost once more, under the blanket of the night.