A slave's Lunch
The view from your hole under My desk is too good for a worm like you. you should be so grateful that I ever let you stare at My feet and legs from down there. Sometimes you catch a glimpse above although I usually kick your face back to the floor and use it as My footrest. I have been training you to become the weakest, meekest slave worm of all and part of the process of your dehumanization includes starving you. Sometimes you may eat a crumb off the floor or dirt off My soles, but that's if you're lucky. you are just a thing. Nothing more. But today is a rare day that I consider your survival and let you have some lunch. What is more humiliating than licking up the stomped mix of My divine spit, ash and a crushed banana off the floor and from My shoe while threatened of being exposed to the whole office? The fact that you beg Me for it.
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