Chesterworth was a slowly dying town. The nearby city was sapping jobs out of the economy dragging anybody who could leave away, leaving the dregs of society left. The apartment complexes, touted as a nearly utopian new way of living when they were constructed in the postwar boom, were showing their age and only their well lit corridors and donations from a local philanthropist kept them from becoming slums. In one flat of the 6th floor of the north complex a young boy sat in his room, playing on his DS.
His mop of black hair shimmered in the light of the incandescent bulb in the ceiling and his grey eyes tracked his character around the screen of the game. The boy was dressed in a baggy tee-shirt that hung off his frame making him look thinner than he actually was, and a pair of loose jeans. He sat on a pile of blankets he had pulled off his bed to lie next to the radiator.
“Ian, dinners ready,” he heard his mum call.
“Coming,” he called back. He closed his DS and plugged it into the cord hanging over his desk, leaving it on its surface. Upon entering the kitchen he was confused. Sitting in his usual spot at the kitchen table was one of the adult plates. Not only that but it was full of cheese coated pesto pasta. He looked over to his mothers usual seat and saw a normal sized portion for her. He looked over to his mother with a quizzical expression.
“You're a growing boy Ian, you need to eat more to grow up big and strong.” She said with a kind smile and Ian shrugged and sat in his place, picking up the fork to begin to dig in.
As soon as he began eating he noticed that this dish had far more cheese mixed into the pasta than normal and behind that was a richness he only associated with butter. It was delicious. He wolfed down as much as he could and only had about an 1/8th of the plate remaining when he put down his fork, his stomach distended and pushing out his loose shirt.
“Now dear, what did I say earlier? Just eat this bit here” His mother said, separating the remaining pasta into two slightly unequal halves and pointing to the bigger half with he brown fork. He nodded, too full to speak and began slowly stabbing the pasta and eating.
It took about an extra 10 minutes and he finished the entire plate after his mother pointed out how small the remaining portion on his plate was. When she tried to offer him seconds he promptly turned it down and asked to be excused.
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