Second Attempt at Vegetarianism

"The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit." - W. Somerset Maugham

"An intellectual is someone who has found something more interesting than sex." - Edgar Wallace

Once upon a time, I was a vegetarian. I lasted for about a month before my blood's iron levels went down and I had trouble sleeping. Now, I am trying it again, half a year later, with the hopes of gaining enough protein via other mediums (eggs, nuts, supplements). The thing is, not only did I feel bad with my closest friends "converting" and my allegedly not being able to, but my sister, also one, has shown me slaughterhouse footage. And it is horrifying what they do to living creatures before killing them. Makes me not want to eat even bacon, and that is saying something. I was never huge on poultry, but beef and pork are, in general, tasty; I think I could sacrifice, though. I've thought about owning chickens someday...we'll see.

Mind you, I'm not vegan - I don't think I could do that. But I learned on Sunday that one can make awesome veggie sandwiches using lettuce, tomato, provolone, and mayonnaise. It has milk and egg in it, but no meat. I suppose I've been "vegi" for about twenty-four hours now. Hopefully I'll last longer this time, maybe indefinitely.

Peace and love,

Lewis

Short Story: Mystery Meat

“Sir?” Jacob Tyler tapped on Warden Jameson’s door.

            “Yes, Tyler, come in.” The warden stuck a pencil into his large file book to hold his place. “How can I help you?”

            “Well, lately we’ve been running low on meat for the prisoners.”

            Jameson raised his eyebrows and said, “Can you ship in more by next week?”

            “We could, but sir, I’m afraid it would hurt our budget. However, I have a suggestion.”

---

            The death-row prisoners were fighting over lunch again. Stupid stuff, really, thought Mark Hussey. “Hey,” he said. “Buck.”

            “Yeah?” said the large man next to him.

            “You ever been in a fight?”

            “Hells yeah! Been fightin’ since m’ youth!” Buck Clayton hawked and spat. “Not over nothin’ like this, though.”

            “Before I killed my woman and landed here, damn old hag stabbed me with a pencil. Lead’s still in there.”

            “Gad!” said Buck. “This meat is awful!”

            Mark froze as he heard the voice of a guard: “Markus Edgar Hussey.” It was time to die.

            Mark rose, jelly-legged, to meet his fate. He did not manage to say goodbye. Oddly enough, he began to think of The Green Mile and John Coffey. Well, here goes nothing.

---

            Buck noticed one day that the meat tasted much better. He could not quite place what it was; in fact, he had never tasted anything quite like it before. Wherever Mark is now, he thought, at least he’s not here.

            Crunch.

            Cursing, Buck spat out something dark and shiny: a pencil lead.