Thirsty Little Mouse

8:43pm, I find myself in the kitchen. Cheese laid neatly on the counter, knife in hand, ready to commence my guilty pleasure.

Furthermore a slight, soothing sound emerges from the shallow, vain, loneliness that appears to be my surrounds.

Was it fear perhaps?

Would I slice my cheese not just right?

Will I cut it out to be too large?

I’m not craving or hungry enough for big piece, am I?

Logic didn’t matter anymore. I was still hungry and thriving for something new to endure from.

I slice the cheese slow and deeply,
it feels soft and fresh.

The bittersweet urge for more begins tarnishing my insides, one limb at a time, making me shake and shiver with excitement.

‘Just one more delicious slice.’

I convinced myself, just to satisfy my lifeless train of thought.

Now, I am finished for this peaceful evening. Only tomorrow will determine how much divine cheese my thirsty little mouse will be pleading for.