My mouth watered, as I remembered the large slice of leftover pizza in the fridge. Sitting behind the wheel of my SUV, I visualized the thin crust, the gooey cheese, the spicy sausage and curling slices of pepperoni, the onions, olives, green peppers and mushrooms – my “reward” for a too long day at work. I deserved it. I craved it.
Why is this traffic so slow?
I thought about Jack; imagined him opening the fridge, noticing my foil-covered triangle of meat and cheese. I clenched the wheel and willed him to ignore the pizza and eat his salad. What had his doctor said? “Your LDL is dangerously high, Mr. Spratt. You must take care.” I pounded the wheel with my fist.
Will this light never change?
Suddenly alert, I sensed Jack lifting the foil; sniffing the sausage; licking his lips.
Don’t do it! Eat your salad! Remember your cholesterol! Remember your heart!
The microwave beeped. I stepped on the gas; ran the light.
The pizza came out. I swerved and heard a crash behind me.
His mouth opened. I careened into the driveway and slammed on the brakes.
If he’s eaten it, I’ll kill him
But the pizza already had.