Amuse Bouche

Ma says the plates aren’t a problem, the blue doesn’t go on the food, she gets me to rub it with my finger to see. Also the forks and knives, the metal feels weird with no white handles but it doesn’t actually hurt. There’s a syrup that’s to put on the pancakes but I don't want mine wet. I have a bit of all the foods and everything are good except the sauce on the scrambled eggs. The chocolate one, the Easter, it’s meltedy inside. It’s double more chocolatier than the chocolates we sometimes get for Sundaytreat, it’s the best thing I ever ate.
“Oh! We forgot to say thanks to Baby Jesus,” I tell Ma.
“We’ll say it now, he doesn’t mind if we’re late.”
Then I do a huge burp.
Then we go back to sleep.
From: Room by Emma Donoghue (Unique, powerful book)