Too Much.

Photo Credit : Jim DiGritz on Unsplash

Gorge

That’s all he ever did ,ever. Just like the large greedy pig, that others had come to describe him as. Selfish, greedy, self obsessed, could one even say narcissistic, perhaps. As long as his needs, which of course were many, and so very important were fulfilled, then everything was alright, at least for now.
He sat at that kitchen table, three times every day, like a larger and more grotesque version of King Henry V111 when he was at his worst. The speed at which he gobbled everything in sight. The grasping hands, so quick and agile for such a large man. His slobbering eating habits, like some mad rabid, demented dog, left those that witnessed them shocked and sickened. He even sat at the head of that table, like the Royal King. Well he did after all pay for it, as he was fond of reminding the family seated round the table. He liked to remind them at the top of his voice, and at times pounding the dark oak table. How he had paid for the food, the table he ate it off, the house they were sitting in. Everything in fact. They knew the drill by now. Only, when he had the choice of the best of the food layed out on the table, and had done with it. Only then were they allowed to take what ever was left over. Not that their was ever much. They sat quietly watching and listening to him eat, a unpleasant experience. The knifes and forks, patiently waiting beside their clean empty white plates. The only sounds, the cackling of the wood burning int he open fire, and his loud incessant chewing, and gulping down of the finest of wine, he indulged himself in.
She slaved away, cooking what he demanded, and it better be right, she knew that by now. She had the body language of a hounded, and harangued woman, who toiled to keep some semblance of peace and tranquility in the house. If that were even possible. In the darkened room, lit by the fire, and the few large candles, he continued about his daily ritual, as the family did.
Tonight it was the same, he eating quickly, noisily and grabbing everything in sight. They sat round the table, watching and listening. He coughed, they eyed the mountains of juicy succulent mixture of food layed upon the table. The scent, and imagined taste of it so real, the texture most be so soft, and mouth-watering tasty, they too began to salivate at the very thought of tasting it. Were that to be allowed.

It was agony, pure and simple. To watch, to be so near, to hear, to breathe in the luscious aroma of what lay near to them. He must surely have been aware of what it was like for them, to sit, watch and wait. Or perhaps not. Maybe he was so wrapped up in himself, it never crossed his mind.
He coughed again, a bit more loudly, and cleared his throat. Continued to eat, and had some more of the red wine, poured from the expensive decanter, in to the rather finely decorated glass he used. The cackling of the fire, the delightful red hue it produced, the warmth it afforded the darkened dining area. It could have easily been mistaken for an intimate, welcoming setting. He coughed again, more forcefully this time, and slowly lowered his knife and fork. He began to perspire more than normally. His forehead becoming damp, his face flushed red, his large protruding lips, taking on a slight bluish tinge. He stood up rapidly and kicked the chair hard behind him. Put both his hands on either side of his large jowls, and staggered forward. They watched from around the table, as he tried to breath, but there was nothing but quietness, aside from the cackling of the wood burning in the large open fireplace.
His frame fell heavily on top of the open fire, smothering it. The arid smoke filled the darkened, candlelit kitchen. She watched transfixed, from the stove. They watched silently from where they were seated round the large oak table. His overly large unattractive body, didn’t move. No sound, nor movement from it.
Gingerly and tentatively she approached the table, and viewed the mountains of succulent food on it. Picked up an empty plate, and put a few tasty looking morsels on the plate. She placed a few into her mouth. She had always suspected they would taste as good as they looked, and she was right. Her wide smile, and a satisfying ‘aah’ signified that. She had another mouthful, and then another. Her smile growing larger. Her eyes  looming wide with delight. She threw a cursory glance towards the fire place, and his unmoving figure, as they did.
They watched. She smiled, and nodded. One by one they lifted up their empty plates and began to fill them with the luscious, succulent food that lay before them. In the darkened room, they began to feast.