"You're scared because you look at scary things," he said.
They chose seats and marveled at the braided loaves hanging from strings.
"It's a cafe," he said.
She disagreed. There was so much bread it had to be a bragging baker's collection.
He smiled.
"You know what's funny?" He asked.
She knew, "We're low carb and here we are staring at things that are not for us."
"It's like you watching scary things. They're not ours," he reminded her.
"We were not made for fear," he went on.
"Some of it isn't even true," he said, then shrugged, "They lie to us."
Funny how they knew it, but watched the show anyway. Why did they do that?
They ordered stacked sandwiches, each made with four cups of flour, then pulled off the meat and lettuce and tomato slices. Picking, choosing, leaving what wasn't for them on the plate. So much of life is like that. You don't have to eat it all.
