A Bag of Chips

 

I wanted some chips today.

Maybe Fries.

Yes, there’s a difference.

I want them.

 

A bag.

A 3 kilograms bag.

In 1 day?

In 1 day…

Where does this Envy come from?

A vision, on television.

A horse speaking.

A horse asking.

For something else than hey.

Hey on a heyday.

 

Chips.

Potatoes chips.

Fried, deep fried.

Wished, well wished.

 

I open the bag.

I let it open…

Before that.

A simple sandwich.

Ham, Lettuce, Cheese.

The cold sandwich.

The Burning chips.

Do it quick, before starting.

It won’t get cooler.

 

A Hand in the bag.

Already open.

IT’s greasy & cold.

Pull the hand off.

Trapped.

Cut your finger.

On chips?

Cold & crude.

 

Just a simple cut.

Chips will be chips.

A snorting & little squeaks.

Panic, but it’s not real.

The screen turned off.

But it’s behind the screen.

 

I should get off the bag.

I can’t pull my hand off.

Do I want to stay in?

Fritters…

Oil’s boiling.

Blood is sauce.

My own hand.

Appetite.

 

The Hand’s still in the bag.

But I can put my tongue in.

The feels.

Who’s most pleased?

The bag?

 

You only need 1 hand to eat…