The Last Slice

It’s the last hour of weekday.
I am ready to unwind,
“What’s the plan?”, flickers on my screen.
I promptly type, “Care for a drink?”
One turns onto two. Two to many.
Now, hunger pangs roar as savvy restaurants are unkind.
“All booked, All booked”, they cry.
Last minuters like us are left high and dry.
Big fast food names are a no-no.
Kebab shops around here are so-so.
Our eyes meet, our lips wet.
“Is that what you have been thinking?”
“You bet!”
One Pepperoni and One Caramalised Onion are under attack.
Our mutual love for Pizza, cannot be held back.
“Go for it!”, he encourages me, eyeing the last slice.
“Tomorrow?”, I succumb being sincere and nice.
Suddenly, I remembered such last morning after.
My annoyance at empty cartons was met with laughter.
Now, I couldn’t let it happen twice.
The great betrayal at the Last Slice.

Categories: Poetry

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