One night without food...

After long hours of work, I went to sleep. Seven hours since I had had dinner, I was starting to get hungry. I went to bed nevertheless, convincing myself that I would not feel the hunger once I slept.
I lay on the bed, unable to sleep, my stomach growling. I tossed from side to side and pressed the pillow hard on my stomach, as if that would magically solve the problem. ‘Sleep, girl, sleep,’ I told myself.
There was nothing I had in my room that I could eat right away. I lay on bed, straining my thoughts on what were the foodstuff I had – noodles, Milo…… the list went down to salt and sugar. Momentarily, my starvation was overridden by anger. Anger that I was so ill-planned for such an event.
My body gave me another warning. ‘You are going to faint soon,’ it said. I nodded, as if I was replying to that invisible voice that was warning me. My stomach flipped and squirmed, growling and complaining.
And just that moment, there was a flash. Of people. Of starving people. The gypsies who used to live in the platform near my apartment. The pot-bellied kids who came running when they saw someone ‘rich’, bringing their left-over food for them.
And the next moment, I thanked God I had had dinner. That I could afford it. I got up, murmured a prayer to the little picture of God I had on my desk, drank water, and went back to sleep.

It’s a story. Inspired.