There were tennis courts and people wearing white shirts and white shorts were were playing. Some poor kids, myself included, were hiding under a tent-like thing hanging over a closed, dark tennis court. We watched the people play closely, in the hopes of a thick, cookie disks they were hitting instead of balls, would fall close to the dark net that separated us. We were on edge and very hungry. When one did come by, we'd all run out like a wild pack of hungry hyenas and grab the cookie disk. It would crumble of course, but the chances were good that some of us would get a few chunks of it to eat.
This went on for hours.
Later, we were doing the same thing.
After a while into our wait, a cookie disk finally came. This time, it did not shatter. I could barely contain myself because I was so hungry. As I ran out to grab it, I realized it was not a cookie, but a large high-top shoe made of cookie.
That must be hard to hit around, I thought. As I grabbed it and got back to our saggy tent quickly, it felt warm and somehow I just knew someone had been wearing it. I could smell the sweat from the foot that was once worn by the cookie shoe, formally the cookie disk... I hesitated about the whole situation. -That I would soon be eating "foot" . But hey, its food. When times are tough, you do what you can to survive.
And I tried not to think about it.
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