Prompt Day #354: Describe a tick or leech enjoying its blood feast. Delay the truth until the finale: that this is really just your main character, eating lunch.

Sorry for this onslaught of prompts but I couldn’t do them last week during my writing residency, now I must catch up and finish what I started so I can focus on my thesis.



                It was the heat that drew him in, hunger that brought his mouth to the meal. A black hole formed deep within him and he inhaled. He fed. Warmth flowed down his gullet, filling his belly. He wondered if he could stop or if he would just continue to feed until he fell away, engorged. He suckled like a babe at the thick crimson ambrosia. He warmed, taking on the temperature of his meal. He was flush with satisfaction and heavy with sleep.

Carl Younkins pushed himself back from the table. His plate of spaghetti demolished, the table cloth spattered with evidence of his decimation of the pasta. He held up his pudgy hand and waved impatiently to his waitress. She saw him, sighed and wished the café wasn’t so close to the courthouse. He pointed to his watch in case his piggy salute hadn’t been enough, as if his daily lunch routine was a foreign concept to her. Yes, Counselor, I am well aware you need your check before court starts again.