Hungry and shameful, I arrive at my home, 

no one there to greet me, no dog to pet, not even the lights to welcome me. 

I drag myself through the door with the exhaustion of a once mobile slug, 

I aimlessly huck my shoes towards the floor mat. Ready to collapse I prepare a nice warm spot on my couch only to forget that I haven’t eaten today. 

Suddenly a smell rushes over me and a feeling of hope comes with it—a familiar and tempting smell, garlic and something spicy. Instantly I could taste every flavor with only a passing glance at the holy box, rich creamy tomato paste, chewy and savory sausage, and perfectly al dente pasta. 

The microwave had been subduing a plate for me—a gift from my currently absent mother, an unfortunately cold but reassuring plate of spicy spaghetti with Italian sausage. 

So long, my troubling day, for all will that is good shall come to me, as long as I can wait 45 seconds more...