An elegant breakfast, you see, can spell the difference between joy and disillusionment. Even after consuming every morsel of goodness, every shred of the morning meal that promises sustenance and sovereignty over one’s personal dominion, the elegance remains.
This is how it started.
Even in the aftermath of an elegant breakfast, the carcass stands proud on the plate, daring dishonor—as it turns to run—to show it cowardly tail.
This is how it ended.
