triggered

It's in the wrong jar.

Alarms.

My eyes grow big.

You watch the realization unfold on my face.

My stomach drops with the certainty; It has lots of practice living with emptiness.

Calculations begin- how long can I manage? Fruit here, cup of water there.

"I can never know for sure."

It takes less than a second to realize that everything is broken.

It takes less than a second; sounds of the dog smacking cheese off of the used dishes vibrates the room.

The smell of contaminants that coat each dish is nauseating.

It smells like the rotting remains of promises made.