I had traded my three pound breakfast for the laundry service that morning and taken the long walk to the supermarket. One has to be careful when the weekend approaches if one believes in buying one's own drink.

I averted my gaze from the rows of apples and stoically replenished my stationery. Walking out with the bags sagging from fisted palms ,my legs sighed.

Oh who is it going to hurt if I tuck away one apple from the shelf?


No. My hunger does not give me a right to the food.

But my hunger isn't three day old or many generations deep.