"Mango" by Snapdragon

Staring into the bowl, a melancholic wave washes over me. The barren white ceramic concave container seems to mock me, telling me that I am not worthy of more food. However, today will not be the day that I succumb to the imaginary taunting of the bowl that sits atop my counter. With my last ounces of strength I push my feet hard against the wooden floor, rising from my seat. I walk briskly toward the door leading my garage, and on the way grab the maroon lanyard that adornes my keys. I push the button large button and the grey garage doors lifts from the hot pavement. I fling the heavy door open and position my seat toward the steering wheel more. My key ignites the black car with a rumble from the engine and the sudden presence of music fills my car. My hand reaches for the gear shift, allowing the automatic vehicle to be put into reverse, and I whip out of the steep driveway.

Driving down my neighborhood, I see my beige house disappear through my rearview mirrors. Going 25 down the road, and of course obeying all traffic signs, I am at giant within 5 minutes. I pull into the parking lot, watching for pedestrians leaving the shopping center, and find a rare empty spot near the front, which I pull into. My hand grasps the gear shift and my car is out into park, slightly crooked within the space. 

With my keys in one hand and a crumpled 10 dollar bill in the other, I storm into the grocery store. The glass doors open, signifying that I am now entering the home that holds my most favorite food in the world. I take a right, awkwardly bumping into a customer who had just made their purchase, and made my way to the produce section. I walk through the aisles, searching for the forbidden fruit, hoping to get at least one. Alas, I can not find any, and after 5 minutes of looking thoroughly I give up hope, hanging my head in defeat. But before I can make my exit, I catch the eyes of a woman, clad in a yellow shirt and black pants, and a smile invites me to ask her where I can find what I am looking for. She points me in the right direction and my quest continues. Finally, the moment I had waited for so long had arrived. In front of me we’re 15 orange fruits, wrapped with their natural green rind. I picked one up, squeezed gently, and noticed the fruit caved slightly, telling me that they were ripe. I urolled a transparent bag from the spool that it sat on, and placed 5 of the fruit into it. Realizing that 5 would not suffice for the amount of hunger that had befallen unto me, I grabbed another bag and subsequently placed 5 more into that one. 10 in total and I was ready to check out. 

Excitedly, I speed walked over to the self checkout line, at the exact time someone was leaving from their station. I walked up, instantly hitting the english and forgot card options, a habit that I had acquired from the constant trips to the store. I clicked on the fruit picture and selected the correct amount of items I had picked up and sped home. I arrived and grabbed a cutting board, grabbing a single fruit from the bag, and a knife from my drawer. I cut it in half and sliced it 5 times, both horizontally and vertically, essentially crosshatching the inside of the fruit. I then held the edges of the rind and lifted it up my dry lips. After the first bite, I leaned back into my chair, and looked out the window to see kayakers on the lake, and I was at peace. Just me, the lake and my mango.