There was a heart that had known nothing but loneliness, and although it tried its best to survive without the sustenance of love, it slowly withered away until there was almost nothing left.
“Please feed me,” the lonely heart said. “Or else soon I shall be dead, and you will have to go on without me.”
And its owner said, “You have never been anything to me other than an ache and a pain. But if it is food that you want than food you shall have.”
He cooked up a great feast, and laid it all out on a huge table in the dining hall of his house. And he sat down in front of it and ate it all by himself, stuffing great gobbets of food into his mouth with his heavy hands until he felt he might burst.
The lonely heart could feel the food holding it tight, and at first it mistook this warm embrace for the tenderness it had long missed. But as the food was packed in ever tighter, the heart realised this was not tenderness but malice, and it could feel itself being slowly squeezed tighter and tighter by the weight of the food pressing down upon it. Until finally, on the stroke of midnight, the lonely heart suffocated, and was gone.
Still the heart’s owner ate on.
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Notes:
1. Written July 28th, 2016
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