He had tried to go veggie before. It seemed sensible, felt right. He liked a steak as much as anyone, but the environmental impact and morality of eating meat gnawed at him. His brother was vegetarian, and his sister-in-law. She worked for some charity saving the oceans, or was it beaches? Either way, cutting out meat was a big part of it.
His parents didn’t mind when his brother gave up meat, they adjusted family dinners without complaint. But when he gave up meat, they worried endlessly about whether he was getting a balanced diet. To them, it was just another ill-conceived fad, something he’d grow out of, despite him being 28.
Even after … everything, he’d still tried to stick with being vegetarian. If anything, he felt more motivated. It seemed even more important somehow. He was extra careful to get plenty of alternative proteins, beans, pulses, whole cartons of eggs.
But, no matter what he did his body seemed to crave meat.
Soon he caught himself staring too long into the butcher’s shop window. The glisten of raw meat on display sent a heat crawling up his spine, his mouth flooded with saliva. He became convinced he could even smell the faint coppery tang of blood through the glass. Just the memory of it stirred something dark, clawing at the bars he’d tried so hard to hold shut.
Even worse was the sight of roadkill. A mangled heap of fur and flesh on the roadside that made his mouth water, scraping at something deeply wrong beneath the surface. He knew the creature inside him was done waiting.
When humans, other people, started to look and smell like meat, that was when he decided to stop being vegetarian.
I love this. I shy away from writing pieces this short because I’m afraid I won’t be able to cram enough into it. You did this marvelously. I’m inspired to hone my craft in the shorter form. Thanks for sharing!
Good twist!