Photography © Shannon O’Connor
The Voices of Your Food
Charlie sat at the counter at the diner, looking at his cheeseburger. He wondered what this one would say.
Lately, his meals had been speaking to him. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he expected it, and wanted to know what this juicy cheeseburger with pickles and ketchup had to share with him.
He lifted the bun of the burger. He heard it laughing.
“Who do you think you are, big guy?” the cheeseburger said. “You’ll never amount to anything. Just keep eating more of me, and you’ll be dead before you know it. And besides, you’re a loser.”
“Why do you have to be so rude?” Charlie whispered to his plate. “Why can’t you say nice things?”
The waitress looked at Charlie, and shouted, “Is everything okay there? Your burger good enough?”
“Uh, yeah, the burger is great.”
Charlie lifted it up, and took a bite. He looked at the waitress and nodded.
He didn’t want anyone to think he was insane, because he took his meds, and he was stable enough to eat a burger at a diner, and not cause a commotion.
The trucker next to Charlie looked at him.
“Did your cheeseburger tell you you’re a loser?” he asked Charlie. “I thought I heard it talking.”
“It didn’t say anything,” Charlie mumbled with his mouth full. He downed his Coke and shoved the French Fries in his mouth. “Could I have my check, please?” he said to the waitress.
“You’re eating awful fast,” the waitress said. “Something wrong?”
“No, I’m in a hurry.”
“You don’t gotta be nowhere,” she said. “You’re in here all the time, Charlie.”
“I have to go.”
Charlie looked at the bill, and put the cash on the table.
He ran out the door.
He didn’t think he was hallucinating, because he was stable on his meds, and his blood levels were fine. He wasn’t sure if he should tell his doctor what happened, because if he did, he might end up back in the locked ward, and he didn’t want that.
He drove away from the diner and went back to his apartment. He belched up the taste of the cheeseburger as he pulled into his driveway. He needed to sleep.
The next day, he went to Target to get his medication. He decided to treat himself to Starbucks, because he saw a picture of a pumpkin cream cold brew that looks so delicious. He decided on a pumpkin cream cheese muffin as well.
When the barista handed him the drink, he heard a gurgling from the cup.
“If you drink me, you’ll get a sugar rush, and it’ll be lovely, but you’ll regret it later,” a sweet young girl’s voice said.
“Doesn’t anyone have any good news for me?” Charlie said, as he sipped his cold brew, walking out of the store. “Why don’t the things I eat tell me positive things? Tell me that I’m a nice guy, that I’m worthy of success. Tell me that I’ll achieve greatness.”
“We don’t want to lie to you,” the muffin said. “We want you to face reality.”
Charlie took a bite of the muffin. He closed his eyes; the sweetness enveloped him.
“I just want this to end,” he said, with a mouthful of muffin, crumbs falling out of his mouth.
The next day, Charlie went to an Italian restaurant. He ordered his usual chicken Marsala.
When he went to eat his pasta, he heard a voice coming from his food.
“It will all be over soon,” the fusilli said. “Don’t worry, when they take you away, you won’t ever be hungry again.”
“What do you mean?” Charlie screamed. “Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep talking to me?”
The waiter came to the table.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“No, nothing is okay,” Charlie said. “My food keeps talking to me, and it’s always bad news.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, I just need to eat something that won’t tell me I’m a loser, and I’m going to die, and I have no future.”
“Maybe we can bring you something else?”
“I don’t know what you can bring me.” Charlie stood, up, and started throwing the pieces of fusilli.
“I want to be a normal person, and have a good life!” he screamed. “I want to have love and success and a car and a house! But the food I eat keeps reminding me that I’ll always be a loser!”
Charlie hollered.
“If you don’t calm down, I’ll have to call the police!” the waiter yelled.
“Call them, have them take me away, I’ll always be crazy, and that’s just the way it is!”
Charlie ran out of the Italian restaurant bellowing down the street, everyone looking at him wondering what was wrong, he would never be the same because the voices of his food kept telling him the truth; he had to face reality; he would suffer his whole life, not being able to eat anything, withering away, until he was a wisp of his former self, with no substance to his body, just a person made of air.
Shannon O’Connor has an MFA in Writing and Literature from Bennington College. She has been published previously in Oddball Magazine, as well as 365 Tomorrows, Sci-Fi Shorts, Ginsoko LIterary Journal, and others. She has been known to wear costumes when it is not Halloween, loves candy corn, and reading novels about magic.