Your reverie ends when you realize that, save for the sound of tinkling silverware, the refectory is completely silent. Today's news briefing has ended. The nuns' reverential silence acknowledges the blessing—the gift—that is food, a gift that, like so many others, habit has made you blind to for too long.
You remember how, as a kid, you were scrupulously taught that eating was a very serious business, one that brooked no nonsense, no kidding around. Only a lifetime later have you learned that, as she was with so many other things, your mother was totally wrong.
You must play with your food.
In fact, foreplay with it.
Fred Wistow lives in New York City. Contact: email@example.com.
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