whats for lunch

Imagine that your a wild animal and from the moment that you wake to the time you fall back to sleep your main goal in life is to find food. That's it. You have no other responsibilities, there is nothing else more important. So that's your life. Now, recognize that you are human living in an advanced society on a plentiful planet and you really only spend a few hours a day thinking, preparing, retreiving or setting food down to eat it. But, it clearly is a resource that if not readily available, attainable and accessible, you would also be on the hunt morning, noon and night. It would soon be something you have to focus on in order to function at all. You might even consider or kill a competitor for it. That's how ugly things could get if we had to. Looking at historical patterns, there might surface some Evidence suggesting that humans resorted to cannibalistic means in dire circumstances. Some theologins might even suggest that child sacrifices happened due to foreseeable failures in food supply. Particular sacrifice involving human mortification was often a resort of the financially or domestically ruined, whom along with their mass victims also sacrifices him or herself out to correct a malfashioned picture. But we are not animals living on the edge of survival coping with scarcity of any nature other than the scarcity that industry sometimes creates fictisciously to obtain control of a revenue stream. I somehow am inclined to think that the pandemic may have been used to amass these streams ... destroy the old and buy up the rest...the buy it or bury it handbook asuddenly appears more obvious now that I'm older. Wiser. Too wise for my own good. In a shithole covered partician buried deep in the heart of the crowded marketplace where temps average about 20 degrees hotter with no ventilation, anywhere in the penisula, a fury beast of a man and a small vendor move down a swollen corrider to one side of a curtain. The vendor lifts the curtain and reveals to the beast a frail naked parcel of a girl lying curled up in a ball on a blanket. She can barely look back before he slips under the curtain and sticks his hard dick into her face, gripping her tightly around the back of the neck. she mutters barely a wimper that suddenly shreiks at the drop of the curtain becoming somewhat louder as a growl....The sound of sucking and moaning. Her jaw becomes over extended. Suddenly sharp teeth appear and the beast is shreiking in pain. There is blood spewing all over her gdostorted facial expressions...Her face is morphed from an innocent girl to a furious demon and only the death of the man who meant to abuse her will satisfy. His bloody dick falls to the ground. She breaths deeply, slowly gaining the strength to stand over the dead beast and pull his shirt off his body and wrap the beast up in the tattered blanket and tie it in a knot. She scutters to the doorway, waiting. Hearing no sound. She slips the tshirt on and peeks out under the blnaket where she sees a quiet, empty corridor. She slips through and moves like a floating vapor down the tight spaces. Her hand brushes against a hanging belt and it drops to the ground, alerting an old woman with a broom. She darts across the corridor into another room and struggles to open a winow before the old woma n arrives. She hears a tustle outside, but she breaks the window and climbs out with her dirty feet and face perspiring and her teeth clinched. She somehow makes it....to the busy street where she suddenly blends in with the heated over crowded activity. She realizes no one sees her, no one caeres, so she turns and runs away from the shacks, as far as her breath and bare feet will take her. fThe writer returns.