side dish // frankel [blitz]

I came here to escape a repetitive life yet day after day, I am in this same room for dinner at the exact time as the day before. Same table, same faces, the only differences is the food. It is so cliché but the lower Districts do pile up their plates. A taste of rags to riches for a couple of days, any sane unfortunate soul would take advantage of it, it seems I am not sane but the unfortunate side is in bold. Nothing appeals to me, like the stations in that room where my soul is being sucked from my body at every second. It is not just the smell of warm bodies that is knocking me down but the monotonous nature of it all. It amazes me how so many keep themselves occupied for so long.

The dining hall is the obvious place to interact with someone but my lonesome meals haven’t exactly committed to my escort’s advice. I am in here to eat, not to talk.

Although the quality of the food is an unlikely conversation starter anyway; so this is what they do to the cows, pieces of steak with various herbs or whatever sprinkled onto them. Beef stognoff or stroganoff, whatever it is. Beef cattle shouldn’t be proud of themselves really, with the way they turnout although the dairy cows produce is just as bad…yoghurt, what?

A simple slice of pork and chicken, with a side of vegetables, nothing elaborate; something so easily obtained at home. I wanted to try new things in life before it all ended but food tasting, that is not really high on the agenda.

During the whole food collection process, my tray has followed a male, with an Eight sewn to his attire although throughout it all, his tray has remained empty. Obviously my trick of refusing to train is in competition with this one starving himself. ”Are ya struggling? The pork is nice, not as good as back home though.”