Who: Delilah What: Bad reactions to food, nightmares. When: Yesterday through this morning. Where: Her place.
30 hours in her minefield of a bed; the sleep had come on quick, but remained fitful. Nightmares raged into deeper absurdity, twisting her organs into confusing terrors that they refused to acknowledge. Her wants amplified, even in sleep: she was starving, and thirsty, and neglected for eons! Comatose in the safety of her apartment, Delilah's dreams left her only in war-scavenged gutters.
Before slipping into this forever dream, she'd tried to eat a cheeseburger. Fast food that Delilah wouldn't normally touch seemed like the only option when she was walking down the sidewalk, suddenly overwhelmed by the kind of hungry ache that she hadn't felt since those three months she'd spent in Paris, caught in the midst of the revolution.
God, it sounded so good: meat enveloped in plastic cheese, doused in sugary ketchup.. but four bites in, the taste turned rancid. Sour, maggot-ridden, dead.
Finally now, she rose from sweaty sheets and winced her way into the kitchen. Ravenous beyond measure, Delilah pilfered the refrigerator. It's shelves boasted nothing but haute oddities: caviar, creme fraiche, salmon filets planked by slabs of cedar, wine, stone ground mustard. In the end, she managed to chew her way through two baskets of strawberries without vomiting, and barely satiated, collapsed into the chair near her laptop if only to check the calendar. God, what day was this?