Friday, 3 February 2012
At about half past ten in the morning, Tara encountered a problem. The can of chili she had brought to work for lunch was without an easy open pull tab. And, as she was without a can opener, she was also without a lunch. She sighed, looking longingly for a moment at the brightly colored photograph on it's front, imagining the rich taste of the food inside, so frustratingly out of reach. The spicy notes of chili and cayenne, a hint of garlic, maybe a dash of cumin, and a small portion of regret, knowing full well that the actual contents neither looked like the photo, nor tasted as she imagined. Still she sighed, dreaming all the same.