She said she wanted to go teach kids in Africa. Then she looked across the table and waited for me to say something like how fucking noble and selfless that was.

I tore my slice of bread. I dunked it in my vegetable soup and counted to five before pulling it out and eating it. That was too long; the crust was limp and soggy. I counted to three the next time and it was perfect.

I noticed she wasn’t eating.

“You know, kids in Africa would probably love to have a nice bowl of soup. You shouldn’t waste it.”


One thought on “Soup

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