They say you are what you eat.

There's a small café I go to not far from where I live. Two blocks exactly from my house without a stop in between. It's called Shingles and the air always brushes my face with familiarity. It's one of those places that makes me feel alive, though I haven't been myself lately. You see, my wife was murdered and my thoughts freeze as I recall the details. She was murdered in the most gruesome of ways.

My hands tremble as I take a sip of water. I sit inside, fully aware of what preoccupies my mind. The cops say my wife was skinned and eaten alive. I quiver with my timid thoughts when I think about it. The memory of her still haunts me like a monster lurking within my soul. It's been little over a week and they still haven't found the killer. I hope they never find out. I want to forget. I want to pretend this is a dream.

I pull the same ash tray in front of me and tug my wool jacket tight. I feels good against my skin. Comfort always feels good when you haven't eaten in one week.

I hide my face as Sally walks up to me. I notice the youthful glow in her skin and pull my jacket tighter. You see, there's a reason I eat at Shingles. Sally is the waitress there. She's nearly middle-aged and she knows my favorite dish. Carpaccio with extra lemon juice.

“Not eating again, Audris? I'll get you another water.”

I hide my face with my collar. My eyes widen in fear as I give Sally another nod. She knows I tip well. I'm a stickler for good manners. You see, I just can't stand bad manners. I hear Sally's footsteps as she walks back to the kitchen. The smell of food does little to calm me. There's only one thing I hunger for. Something satisfying like carpaccio with extra lemon juice. I swallow. My throat is dry and my saliva forms a knot in my throat. I bite my tongue until I slightly taste my blood. I'm nervous. I don’t want to think.

The door opens and I watch as my victim enters the café. He's a fat man and he dines at Shingles every other Thursday night. I call him the glutton, though I call him many things. Many terrible things that one should never call a victim.

I watch as the fat man takes a seat. He rests his meaty arms at the table and calls out for a waitress. Sally comes running and I already know what he will order. Steak cooked rare with butter sauce, a basket of rolls, ribs, and a baked potato with everything on it. It's just the appetizer and I swallow as he looks over at me. You see, I can't keep myself from staring at the glutton. He has a succulent body.

I tremble as I ash my cigarette. I feel weak inside as time moves intensely around me. I miss my wife. She had a familiar taste that I can't keep from my mind. I quickly turn as the fat man snaps at Sally. It unnerves me, like a first kiss, but I notice something. A stream of warm butter runs down the glutton's fleshy knuckles as he takes another bite of his potato. I watch every drop drip from fingers. My stomach gurgles and I look away. Yet, I can't. A monster is lurking within me.

The fat man gorges on his delicious meal. His smile grows as grease and crumbs enlarge the stain on his shirt. I gaze intensely as he starts to eats his steak. I listen to his every fleshy bite and notice every greasy wrinkle in his skin. Then, the glutton coughs and knocks his steak on the ground. What a clumsily fool. What a horrible glutton!

The glutton yells at the kitchen for another and I stare down at the wasted meat on the floor. Pangs of hunger interrupt my consciousness as I try to take a sip of water. I try to keep myself calm. I try harder, knowing Shingles will be closed soon. I can already hear them cleaning the kitchen. It's dark outside and my breathing fogs the window at my booth. The smell of bleach and soapy water brings back memories of my wife. She liked clean floors. We both liked clean floors. The chemicals burn my eyes.

My stomach gurgles as I take note of the glutton once more. I lick my lips in anticipation, knowing I will soon be satisfied. I watch him feast on another succulent rib. I become empty inside as my hunger starts to take over. Suddenly, the glutton knocks his drink over and I tremble. He doesn't even stop to clean it up. I listen as the glutton chuckles to himself and my face grows cold with sweat. Does he have no manners!

I watch as the glutton throws a pile of napkins over his messy lap. I listen as he yells at Sally to get a mop. Hopefully she is too busy cleaning the kitchen. I hate when people can't clean their own messes. It bothers me. Everything has to be clean when you eat. It has to be clean so you enjoy it.

There's no one around and I reach inside my jacket. My head pounds as I stare at my victim. I watch as he chomps merrily away on another roll. I get up from my seat, but I immediately sit back down. Sally comes running out with my tab and I hide my face with another sip of water.

“Well, I'm still going to charge you for your waters, Audris. You can't just sit here all day”

I am relieved for the moment and nod as I reach inside my jacket. I look up at Sally and she warms me. I take note of her delicious smile and her tender skin. She wears the same perfume as my wife. It's a smell that leaves a strange hunger deep inside me. It's one that I can't seem to ignore. It's primal and it makes me melancholy

I stare into Sally's eyes. I nibble the inside of my cheeks and my mouth begins to water. I crumple out a twenty from my jacket and tell Sally to keep the change. My eyes become buried with thoughts as I look away from Sally and moisten my lips. I feel my urges take over as I listen to the glutton slurp on his food. My bony hands shake with adrenaline. I reach for my dying cigarette and desperately try to inhale. I'm starving and there is only thing I hunger for. You see, I haven't been myself lately.

“Thanks Audris. Your little friend over there never leaves a tip. He says the meat was bad too. I'll bring you back some change, OK?”

I look up at Sally and nod to reassure myself. I always let her keep the change, but today I don't care. I want her away from me. I want her youthful glow away from me so I can have my victim alone. I need satisfaction. I need him alone.

As soon as Sally exits, I stare across the café. The distance widens as I stare at the glutton. I watch as he pulls out a wad of cash and orders more food. What a horrible person. What a selfish glutton! What terrible manners! What horrible educate! Can't he see the restaurant is closing! Can he not just leave a tip! My stomach aches. I can contain myself no more. Does he have no manners!

Sally returns. I get up quickly from my booth. I reach in my jacket and I pull out a revolver. I aim it at the glutton with stinging eyes. I listen to Sally scream. My face becomes cold and my vision blurry.

They say you are what you eat and I agree. My name is Audris and someone murdered my wife in the most gruesome of ways. I am nothing without her! I am nothing and I've eaten nothing all week!