Two young women sit at a table, wearing identical knitted jumpers and looks of disgust as they stab viciously into takeaway containers. “Do you feel this meal speaks to you?” one says, holding up a single piece of penne.
“It’s a metaphor for my life… ” her friend sighs.
“You have no flavour.”
“I have no content.”
“Nothing good in me”
They decision is made; hunger is preferred.