The boy and the caviar

So there was this day where I was eating this slice of bread with quite casual caviar, no luxuries. That kind of caviar you can find on

any supermarket in town, that kind of caviar you have the right to

abuse of without feeling any guilt related to expenses.



Anyhow, while I was chewing a slice of bread with this caviar, did I

mention it was Swedish? And I couldn't help noticing that the tube

containing the material, I had tumbling up and down, left and right,

forwards and backwards in my mouth, actually had a quite interesting

design. The background layer was in a dark blue color and the cover was in

soft red. The caviars name was written in a yellow, vomit-like color "

Kalles kaviar", in a wavy, dizzy-like, way.

Now, why make such a design for a label?  It wasn’t nice or especially creative; the designs lack of imagination was big. It was literally ugly.. 

But the most annoying thing with that caviar tube was the face. Yes,

that thing actually had a face. The face of a boy on the bottom side of

the tube was looking at me, staring at me. And I could feel how he wanted to mock me. Blond,short

hair, exaggerated, unpleasant smile, white shiny teethes and blue eyes.

He stood there on his caviar tube observing me chew my last bit of

bread with caviar. He analyzed the tumbling, chewing sound, of that

last bite in my mouth and smiled a malignant smile.



But worst of all was when I was going to make myself a new slice of bred.

I took the tube in my hand and pointed the tip at my lump.

I pressed. Nothing happened. I pressed again. And nothing happened. At this point I understood that the boy was playing around with me, otherwise he wouldn't be smiling right? At least not in that way he was smiling. I pressed again but this time harder. It just didn't seem to want to come out. Why doesn't it come out? Am I too weak? It is certainly that silly boy mocking me. Why is he doing this to me?



The boy kept smiling while I was fighting for my caviar.  Is

this because I don't deserve it? Is it because I’m not like everyone else? I started to feel cheap. The boy had managed, with his damn smile and manipulation to mock me down to insecurity. He made me feel like

nobody. I couldn't take it; I had to show him wrong. I gripped the

tube, this time with both hands, and pointed it at the center of

of bread and pressed as hard as I could. The caviar wouldn't get

out, I pressed harder. And then, with a sudden burst, the rear side of

the tube opened and all the caviar squirted in my right eye.

I went blind; I threw the blond boy to the side of the couch and ran

to the toilet. I washed my eye, felt the pain of canopy of caviar covering my eyes,

and sat down on the toilet lock. I couldn't take it anymore; I gave

up and tried to convince me that I was not defeated, that a little boy hadn’t managed to break through me. But I knew he had, and he knew it as well. And I also knew that the boy was still lying on the couch smiling his wicked smile, laughing against me.