 |
| What does eating a sandwich tell about you? |
Anxiety
vibrated in the air as Samuel’s mother knocked on a red door. The door
was opened by an equally anxious, smiling nervously mother. Ah. So this is the ‘play-date’. Interesting…
Two
more mothers called out, and Samuel was dragged into the tv room where
three other bewildered children sat. Legos and action figures lay
scattered around them. An offering of some sort, obviously.
“Now,
let’s have lunch!” Someone announced, and the four children were
plopped down at a child’s table in their colorful chairs. IKEA…
Plates of sandwiches and potato chips were slid in front of each, and juice boxes (straws inserted) were set down.
Silence, long and drawn out, echoed as each child sized the other up for reference.
So
much can be learned by the way one holds a juice box, how one sucks on
the deadly straw. How the sandwich is held speaks a world of
information. Blue iced cupcakes are not meant for just eating.
By
lunch’s end, it was clear: Samuel was the Alpha, Charlie the Omega.
Clarisse—sassy deceptive girl—was a she-devil. Buddy was easily
manipulated. The game is afoot, friends.
And then....
When
the front door closed amid tears and apologies after the play-date
concluded, much had happened. The leather sofa had been stabbed to
death with the plastic juice box straws. The blood red juice stained
the carpet in big drops. The dog cowered beneath the sofa, shivering in
his blue icing stripes.
This is from 2012 from Samuel Chronicles.
