She opened the refrigerator, took a fruit, took two and three. Hungry, he ate the food from the whole pot. It was manioc, flour, egg, rice and so much more. She repeated it and was still not satisfied. He ate everything he could, more than he could and he would eat more if it weren’t for the looks that scolded his exaggeration. She swore that she felt hungry. It wasn’t fear, anxiety, or a bad thing. It was a hunger in the belly, concrete and confirmed by the stomach that rumbled hourly. This woman had no animal or roundworm, she was audacious to eat in the pot and still hide a little for later. She was a sinner and it was no small sin. She woke up, as usual, opened the refrigerator with her bare feet, scratched her irritated eyes from the refrigerator light, and cut herself close to the eyes with her own crystallized sleep branch. The morning’s joy was already enormous. There were three pieces of pizza from the previous day, they were not his favorites, but there were still three. He ate the first cold and the next two became hot. The melted cheese entered between his teeth and with a saliva still dry in the morning, forced a quick chew. He bit the olive core, his jaw cracked, but nothing to hinder his celebration. He sat down at the computer and started working, there were too many projects to finish. The hungry man was an architect, but he did not build anything manual to justify so much hunger. After some (little) time, getting into spreadsheets and projects, the hunger was so great. The lasagna from the dinner she had planned to eat with her husband stayed for that instant, the scene was repeated, cheese dripping, white cream slipping from the spoon straight to the throat and a little red sauce in her worn pajamas. Being by her side was always a celebration of appetite, food and health. However, with the same intensity as she ate, the food went away. And the cycle was renewed with an even more devastating hunger. She swore she wasn’t gluttony, she had a void that she needed to fill. And it did not seem abnormal to him to fill the appetite for life with voracity. Emptiness was a bad thing. And even working while sitting, she agreed with the saying that “an empty bag doesn’t stop standing”. And he knew, better than anyone, that “an empty stomach knows no joy”. photo: Getty Images
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