Life is a Cow with a Fly on its Eye
by Eli S. Evans

The worst thing in the world, I think we can all agree, is cutting the inside of your mouth on the sharp edge of a potato chip. There you are, enjoying the combination of salt, grease, and crunch, availing yourself of the high satiety index, I believe is the proper terminology, of your potato chip, and suddenly it flips onto its side and slices, most of the time, into the roof of your mouth, and in that moment you know not only that you will not be able to take pleasure in eating the rest of your potato chips, the salt from which will, quite literally, be salt in the fresh wound, but that you will not be able to take pleasure – unmitigated pleasure, in any event – in eating anything, for days, because until the wound heals (a process that will suffer a setback each time you eat again), such pleasure will inevitably be compromised by a simultaneous experience of, if not outright pain, discomfort.