The Hunger

    I tap my foot against the dirty pavement. God! Why can’t my bus come any faster? I glance at my watch; it’s half past noon, right between the morning and evening rush. What’s going on?

    I drum my fingers against the rain-slicked bench. It’s one of those songs that you get stuck in the back of your mind. You don’t know the lyrics. You hardly know the beat. But it’s somehow familiar.

    I like things that are familiar. The taste of my toothpaste in the morning. The smell of hot coffee. The motions of tying a necktie that I now have down to muscle memory… and usually, the screeching stop the 12 o’clock bus comes to right before I get on. But not today.

    You know what? Screw it. My bus hasn’t come. So I just won’t go today. I stand from the bench, take a breath, and start walking. I find myself walking through town. I rarely go to town, mostly staying at home in my free time. But it’s actually quite pleasant. I come across a small restaurant, the kind that’s been in someone’s family for a long time and has just recently been sold. I could eat.

    I open the door, and a small bell jingles, alerting the staff that there’s a customer to be served. 

    “Hello. Welcome to ‘The Hunger’,” says a man who looks not much older than me, but somehow wise beyond his years. What a strange name for a restaurant. 

    He seats me and offers me a menu. I read over the menu: nothing special, just the classics. I already ditched work. Why not keep the train going? I’m feeling adventurous. I order steak. I haven’t eaten meat in six years. April wants us to be vegetarians. I don’t necessarily have a problem with that, but it feels restricting to call it off completely. So April doesn’t have to know.

My steak comes, and Oh. My. God. I have never smelled anything so heavenly. I think I may be actually drooling, licking my lips, yearning for what may be the best meal I’ll ever eat.

    It doesn’t quite look like the steak I’ve seen on TV. The cut of meat, the lines, the fat. But what do I know about steak? I take a bite. My world flips. It’s tender, sweet, buttery, salty, and unequivocally magnificent. I finish the whole meal in what feels like a second, wiping my mouth with a napkin and calling over the server to pay.

    “How was your meal, Sir?”

    “Amazing. Compliments to the chef.”

    “Lovely.” 

    He doesn’t smile, but something in his eyes lights up.

    The next day, I have to go again. I must indulge in the wonderful experience again. I kiss April on the cheek and head out. I don’t even stop at the bus station; I just keep walking, straight to my new favorite restaurant. I open the door, the small bell chimes, and the server greets me. It’s the same man: the same cold, tired man.

    “Hello. Back so soon?”

    “Yes. I’ve been thinking about that steak all morning.”

    “That’s great to hear.”

    He seats me, and I don’t even read the menu. I don’t need to. I know what I want. He brings the plate out, and I dig in as soon as it lands on the table. I try to savor it, but I’m ravenous. This is all I’ve been craving. I’m so hungry, I order another plate. I eat my second serving swiftly, licking the plate. I’d usually be terribly embarrassed to do such a thing, but this restaurant is empty. No one around to see me enjoying myself. 

    For the next few days, I continue to visit the restaurant. I’ve been missing too much work. I start waking up earlier, going before work, then in the evening, going after work as well. This meal is quickly scaling the ranks of my list of familiarities.

    “Eat dinner with me tonight,” My wife says as I prepare to leave for work.

    “April, you know I have to stay late. My boss won’t let me go home early.” I expected to feel worse about lying to her. But it almost feels… exhilarating.

    “I already spoke to your boss. He said it was fine.”

    What? “Oh?… did you?… Well, alright then. We’ll eat dinner tonight.”

    “Wonderful! Have a good day, sweetheart!”

    All day long, I’m dreading eating with April. She’s so greedy. Thinking I’m just going to give her all my time. Do I ever get to enjoy my life?! Not likely. 

    I get home, and April has cooked a large spread of food. Vegetarian burgers, salad, potatoes. All my favorites. Or what was my favorite before I got to taste real food. We eat, and I can hardly keep it down. Everything is disgusting.

    “Do you like it?” 

    No. It’s vile, you incompetent woman! “Yes. It’s delicious.”

    “Good.”

    That night. I lay restless. April is long asleep. But I can’t get a wink when I am so damn hungry. I can’t take this anymore. I quietly slip out and start walking. I have no idea if they will be open at this hour, but I have to try. I walk up to the door and peer through the glass. The man whose face I’ve grown to find comfort in is down a dark hallway, doing what looks to be preparing food.

    He’s here. Marvelous! I move to open the door, but it’s locked. However, I see a back entrance, one that leads right to him. Surely he won’t mind if his most loyal customer has a late-night bite. I take the entrance and walk up to where he is—buzzing with excitement to eat again.

    WHAT?!

    I’m stopped dead in my tracks when I see just what he’s preparing. It’s no cut of beef or pork. My stomach drops to the floor as I watch him. His skilled hand moving his knife like a dance. Carving up a beautiful brunette woman, or what once was…

    His eyes catch mine. And he smiles. The cold, silent, trustworthy man smiles. I turn, and I run home as fast as my feet will take me. As soon as my front door is closed and locked, I slide down against it, clutching my knees. I shake. Bang my head against the wall. Curse and cry until I run out of air. What have I done? What have I eaten? WHO have I eaten?! The disgust overwhelms me as I rock back and forth. 

    I’m so hungry. I’m so hungry. I’m so hungry! I’m so hungry! I’m so hungry! I’m so hungry! I’m so hungry! I’m. So. Hungry. I’m! So! Hungry! I’m so hungry! I’M SO HUNGRY!

    My fingers dig into my knees until my nails draw blood. I need to eat. I can’t live without it. I’m hyperventilating, spitting and sputtering as I squirm.

    I stay like that all night, curled up in a ball of disgust and fear.

    I can’t take it anymore. I’m just so hungry…

    I’ll never be able to eat anything ever again. Not after I’ve tasted that.

    Am I crazy? Am I evil? I don’t know… but I don’t care. I’m just SO hungry.

    I rise from the floor before I can change my mind. I grab my hat and coat before running out the door. I don’t wait for crossing signs. I dodge people on the street. 

    I need to get there.

    I burst through the door. My usual server greets me, but for once, with a grin.

    “Table for one?”