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Dinner Is Served This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

I open my eyes and prepare to consume what the TV set has to offer me this fine evening.
I scan the menu.
Perhaps a steaming hot reality series, or an ice-cold documentary?
Maybe a light airy
comedy, or a dark
heavy drama.
So many choices.
In the end, I settle for a leftover movie.
I've tried it before, and liked it then.
Hopefully it keeps well.
I tell the TV my order using its language, a series of button pushes on the remote.
My meal is prepared almost instantly.
I take a nibble of it, and quickly discover
that the dish has become bland and stale,
not at all how I remember it.
The meal I remember was bursting with new,
exciting flavors.
I had enjoyed it from start to finish, each new scene bringing me a brand new palate
of taste, from delectably sweet
to putrid and bitter,
and everything in between.
But now that I've already experienced these flavors, the dish bores me.
I bring up my menu again, looking to find
the perfect meal.
But the longer I search, the less appetizing the meals appear to me.
This restaurant serves nothing but junk food!
I slam my menu down
and storm out of the dining room.
It is then that I see it.
Sitting on a bookshelf,
two feet above me and directly to my left, is the most tantalizing thing that I've seen all day.
Its delicious aroma fills my nostrils, and I can hear its sentences sizzling like a fancy steak on the grill.
I reach for it
and take a moment to admire its skillful preparation.
It is obvious
that the chef took great pride
in this extravagant entrée,
and I can only imagine how long it must have taken
to craft such a masterpiece.
I flip open the cover and begin to read.
Dinner is served.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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