A Primitive Craving

“It can’t be. No, this must be wrong.”

The glint in our eyes told him otherwise.

At that moment, all blood drained from his face as it become stark white, pallid and something in him just broke. He let out a howl like a cornered animal and began dashing off into the woods, as far as his malnourished body could carry him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, we gave chase.

Footsteps thundered on the soil as we kicked up leaves and dust chasing Justin. His figure was the only thing we saw. The only thing in our impoverished corneas. The sound of broken twigs rang out all around Justin.

Closer, closer and closer.

He must have heard it, for he pushed himself to run faster.

Justin’s ragged breaths echoed in our ears. His leg hit a rock and the momentum sent him tumbling forward.

By the time he hit the ground, we were all there. No command was given, just instinct. 

We surrounded him and he was caught. He was slowly succumbing to his inevitable fate.

And a piercing howl reverberated throughout the woods.

~~~~~

I looked around the gathered circle of sunken eyes and pallid skin, each face home to a drooling mouth made grotesque with hunger, eyes alive with yearning as the acrid smell of searing meat wafted from the fiery embers.

The food was cooked.

Weeks on an island, stranded did something to us. It made us insane. For food.

Ravenous hands reached out as the prepared flesh was passed out to each member of our ragtag group of survivors. The insanity in their eyes shone as they grasped the meat as if it were their lives.

I passed a charred slice to my young daughter and grimaced as she hastily tore into it, juices from each bite greasing her lips and chin.

But I took my time, savoring the intense, smoky flavor of great piquancy, letting the

morsels dissolve in my mouth and explode across my tongue.

All we could think was food.

It might have been wrong, but it was delicious. Absolutely delicious.

Sorry Justin.

Pangs of guilt had replaced our pangs of hunger after we had devoured our meal.

It wasn’t that we disliked Justin, it was just that he drew the shortest straw.