Famished - or something like that

Famished - Part 1

As she walked past the shop front she glanced at her reflection. The straight dark hair that fell below her shoulders was being tousled around in the light breeze. The sun shone on her bare arms that, in the reflection, looked more tanned than they really were. She stopped and stared at herself properly. That she was still attractive was beyond a doubt, especially in the summer dress that accentuated her curves and showed off her legs. She smiled momentarily and then frowned.

"Damn, but you're starting to look a bit on the skinny side, Shirelle," she muttered to herself. "Time for a mid-morning snack."

A few more yards along the street she stopped once more, mouth open at the display.

"Cakes!" she said, and entered the shop.

"Someone's birthday?" the assistant asked as she arranged the dozen cream cakes into two boxes.

"Something like that," Shirelle said, with a smile as she swiped her card over the pay machine, her finger hiding the name on the card. The funds in her bank were holding up very well.

Minutes later, seated on a bench at the side of a road, it took her no more than fifteen minutes to empty the cake boxes of their contents. As she did so she people-watched.

It was a Monday and only a few people went past. A couple of the men eyed her up but they didn't look tasty enough so her glance back was more than sufficient to put them off. A couple of joggers held more promise but they were more concerned with their running than her. She found a bin and stuffed the empty boxes into it before wandering off towards the city centre.

The man sitting two park benches away kept glancing at her as she shovelled the contents of the KFC box down her face. She pretended not to notice. It was half past one and there were several office types spending their lunchtime in the park.

"Suitable," she thought, noting how slowly he ate his whatever-it-was. It was small and looked like something a vegetarian, or maybe vegan, would eat. She shuddered at the thought. But the man himself was – well, definitely large all over was an apt description. "I bet he refers to himself as 'big boned'," she thought, accompanying it with a chuckle. The man himself kept stealing hungry glances in her direction.

There was a waste bin close to where the man sat nibbling on his whatever-it-was. On her lap the KFC box was empty – not even a crumb of chicken remained. She stood and slowly ambled towards the bin.

"You made short work of that," he said as she folded the box flat and tossed it at the bin with a flick of her wrist. It rattled as it settled down on top of the other rubbish in there.

"Pardon?" she said, as if surprised that he had spoken to her.

"Uh, sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to, um..."

She looked at him, the expression on her face deliberately blank – neither annoyed nor pleased. Expectant, maybe.

"I, um, s-suppose that m-must have been b-boneless chicken," he stuttered, possibly wishing he'd kept his mouth shut.

She tipped her head slightly to one side, her expression now inquisitive.

"I mean, the w-way you crushed the box d-down to almost nothing."

She smiled and said, "Something like that."

He stood up, towering over her five foot one. She thought he was going to introduce himself but, while his mouth opened and closed a couple of times, nothing came out. He still held the remains of the whatever-it-was in one hand. It was some sort of thin bread wrap – with a piece of which might have been limp lettuce dangling from it. She suppressed wrinkling her nose at the thought of it.

If he was going to pluck up the courage to say anything else, he didn't get a chance.

"Bye," she said, smiling broadly before turning and walking towards the park entrance.

"Leave 'em wanting more," she thought to herself.

She smiled to herself seeing him there the next day. She had found a McDonalds and was polishing off her second Big Mac and was about to tuck into the mozzarella dippers when he sat down on a bench a few yards away. She gazed across the park as if she hadn't seen him but, out of the corner of her eye, could see that he nibbled on a piece of celery, occasionally accompanying it with a small bite of a dry biscuit.

"Yuk," she thought.

Still, given his size, it was probably all he dared eat.

She screwed up the boxes, stuffed them into the paper carrier bag and stood up. She would have to pass him to get to the bin – convenient.

"Um, hello again," he said as she passed.

"Huh?" she said, as if she hadn't realised he was there.

"We, um, s-spoke y-yesterday," he said.

She frowned at him for a second and then said, "Oh yes. So we did. Enjoying your..." She stared at what his hands held.

"Yes, I know," he said. "Not exactly appetizing, is it?"

"If it's what you like," she said.

"No," he said. "Unfortunately, I d-don't like it. But I'm one of those, er, people who put on weight when I even think about looking at a photo of f-food."

He smiled as if he had made some sort of joke. She didn't laugh but it seemed he was expecting a reply.

"I'm the opposite," she said.

"Yes, I, er, I couldn't help noticing. I think you ate more for lunch than I have in a whole week."

"Yep, lose weight even if I eat like a pig."

"Really?"

"Something like that. Well, be seeing ya."

"Oh, er, right. See you."

She turned her back on him and walked away.

"Hooked," she thought.