A Little Mayonnaise Never Hurt

I flip through the sandwich, like it's an old magazine.  And then I put it down, dropping it on my tray. 

   I sigh. 

   Seriously?  It's my last meal.  You'd think they'd care enough about me to add some mayonnaise to the sandwich so I can eat the cardboard they call food, and remember my childhood with. 

   Whatever.

   Tomorrow can't come fast enough.

   Wherever I go, I hope there's mayonnaise.