Once upon a time, there lived a misbehaving little girl, who would not eat her supper (too many vegetables!), and so was sent to bed hungry. And, as is natural for little girls who go to bed without eating, she soon regretted her choice.
She considered telling her mother, “I’d like my supper now, please,” but was too proud. First, she thought her mother would say, “I told you so,” and second, she thought her mother might refuse her request anyhow, and she’d be doubly scorned.
So instead, she looked around her room for something to fill her belly. Her books looked something like sandwiches, but when she took a bite, they tasted dry and dusty. Her dark wooden table had the appearance of a chocolate bar, but her little teeth would not sink in. Her piggy bank tasted nothing like ham, and her marshmallowey pillows were not sweet at all.
Quickly running out of ideas, she began to daydream about chicken and bacon and pork dumplings and all the tasty, tummy-filling supperfoods in the world.
Swallowing her pride (for she had nothing else to swallow), she opened her bedroom door and called for her mother.
“Yes, dear?” her mother called back. “Do you have an apology you need to make to anyone?”
That did it! The little girl said, “Not at all!” and slammed her bedroom door once more.
Unfortunately, she was now back to square one.
Chicken fingers and sausages and spring rolls, she thought. Then she looked down and saw a way to fill her belly.
She gobbled up her pinky finger, first. It hurt a bit, but she was so hungry she hardly noticed. It just made her hungrier. So she gobbled up the rest of her fingers. Now she was getting somewhere! Her palms followed, then her forearms. She gobbled up her feet, her legs, slurped her hair like spaghetti, chewed on her shoulders until she took big old bites out of her chest, ate her filling tummy, her lips, chewed her teeth with her teeth until she was gumming her juicy eyeballs, and ate her mouth for dessert.
When the little girl’s mother became worried about her hungry daughter, she opened the door to find her child ran away from home! And she wept and she wept to the end of her days.
Day 187’s three random prompt categories were, “Autocannibalism,” “Fairy tale,” and, “Unconventional dessert.”
The moral of the story is, swallow your pride before you end up swallowing yourself.