stomach time

Normally, the built-in timer kicks in; my body tells me it's time to eat, to get some sustenance, something to chew, something to drink.

Sometimes, I ignore the insistent call until it becomes a dull ache.

Sometimes, an idea needs to be nourished more than the body.

Sometimes, a cigarette is enough.

There are times though that I eat for the sheer pleasure of it, unbound by time or necessity. That's when the juxtaposed allure of color, plating and scent overwhelm a mind that has nothing of import to mull over.

Once in a while, I simply forget to eat, distracted by this or that, and I belatedly realize that I am weak with hunger. That’s when the early morning refrigerator raids occur, and I devour the foil-covered mystery.