The Kobalt Influx 8th Instalment

Norman felt his stomach swirl and gurgle, the pieces of bubble bread digested quickly.  That is what happens when one thinks about layer cakes and ducks.  His stomach was so empty that even thoughts of food stirred the gastric juices.  People pay for this experience, Norman was thankful that meals were included in the contract, he had thought that meals meant a table, chairs, meat and three vegetables.  

The man seated next to him radiated discontent that crashed into Norman like a wave crashing on a rocky shoreline.  Norman was surprised that he could feel the emotion.  He put the feeling down to the lack of food. That anyone who felt so strongly about the current situation and did not complain was strange.  Something, there was something about the man next to him.  A flood of warning swept over Norman, the man next to him was dangerous.

Norman looked at the picture, hoping for a safer option.  In the picture Norman noted that the garment of the man seated in the middle of the table touched the garment of left arm of the woman seated next to him, the pose, the artist was suggesting something, a close comfortable companionship, no the relationship was closer.  Even if the woman was leaning away from the man in the middle to politely listen to something a man holding a knife was telling her. There was a secret, he could feel the presence of a secret.  Was it the relationship between the two people in the middle?

I need food, Norman said to himself.  Now I’m seeing things that tradition does not hold with; how do I know things like that?  The picture is a reconstruction, the artist painted something for a patron. Norman closed his eyes, he seemed to have an antenna that was receiving transmissions from the picture.

A tide of waiters serving the next course flooded into the room, disrupting Norman’s thoughts about the picture.  Bowls of steaming liquid were placed in front of the diners.  Everyone had something different, his bowl looked like a green, purple and white lollipop and he wanted to lick it rather than eat it with a spoon.  Looking into his bowl of soup made his head feel light, as if it wanted to float away.  

Now that is just down right weird, thought Norman, I look at my food and my head wants to take off.  To check that it was his food Norman glanced at the bowl on his left, a greenish mustard coloured soup was in the bowl.  Feelings of bitterness and something Norman could not place, he wanted to argue, but did not know what the argument was about.  The emotion surprised and frightened Norman, he looked at his bowl and found that he felt he was floating, higher and higher, he had freedom.

Intrigued and cautious he took a squint at the bowl on his right hand side, the contents of this bowl were red, with a white centre, the mood of the bowl was heavy, there was a weight, something was  carried.  Am I going to survive this meal?  Norman asked himself.  I get emotions from objects and people.  This place is weird, but then people love to pay for the unusual, so far I would not be disappointed.

The silence was broken by a voice sounding like a booming bell, “Eat, this is your meal, this is the course you have chosen.”  

Norman picked up the spoon was next to his right hand, hunger was motivation to eat, but with the strange emotions running through him he wondered if eating the food in his bowl a wise choice.  He did not expect that the food would kill him, it might make me stronger, but that thought in itself concerns me.  Stronger for what?  Norman counted to ten and decided that he was too hungry to care.