In a Restaurant

The boy sitting in the corner of the restaurant had no money.  Morosely, he slouched, trying to hide his hungriness.  Guiltily he ate food others forced on him, but it did not fill him.  He denied having a grumbling stomach as he clenched the 12 cents in his pocket.  He would later add that small amount to the tip so he wouldn’t feel so bad for mooching.  Almost all the food was gone and the table was now sharing a dessert.  However, before that, they had ordered a dish as a joke.  It still sat there.  It was mostly uneaten.  A foreign dish, made for the Asian cuisine inclined.  He was so hungry.  Only one piece had been nibbled on.  And if you squinted your eyes, the pieces just looked like cold ham.  And if you plugged your nose it didn’t smell like much of anything.  It was the texture that made him gag as he tried to choke down that pig tongue.

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