He had been living alone since his wife left and this was his regular Thursday meal: boxed macaroni and cheese. Was real cheese ever that color? He shoveled some in, chewing slowly, trying not to think about the metallic taste that would be left in his mouth.
Instead, he imagined a scrumptious feast: fish smothered with cream sauces, veal blanketed with Parmesan cheese, golden brown turkeys, piping hot soups.
Expecting magical aromas, he inhaled deeply. With a nose full of macaroni and cheese, he picked up his plate and headed for the garbage disposal, wondering what his ex was eating tonight.