Keith scarfed down the first slice. Dipping it in ranch dressing. A staple sauce in the part of the country he was in. But never where he was from. He liked sauce. He bit into the Margherita hot. Piping hot, but it was good, the mixture of fats, and salts tomatoes and cheese. Perfect.
He looked over at the kids in some ways he was scared of them, in other ways he understood them. Even though he was never like them he got the jist. He wanted to say to them don't go to
Spacecity
whatever you do. They fill you up with fat!
Then he was worried they be like Cal, not listening to some old guy a pizza place. Not listening to anyone. Cal he thought didn't care about people like that. He didn't care what anybody said. He just did his own thing. Thats what Keith thought, now he doesn't really know where Cal is.
He started on the supreme this one with peppers and everything. He was already full, but felt it wouldn't hurt. The fluorescent lights made everything more intense. More high definition he thought. The pizzas all seemed more clear, but less real.
