No need for proper plates and cutlery as she shovels handfuls of food into her cavernous mouth. Stray bits of corn chips, salsa, and shreds of cheese, leave a trail of crumbs from table to chair.
Tiny orts are scattered across an ample chest, forming tottering pyramids on her lunch shelf. A rumbling belch creates an earthquake that shakes the cheddar and maize temples to the ground.
Flicking any remaining dregs from her clothing, she waddles into the kitchen, stowing her stash in the pantry. She crosses to the sink, only then remembering there are no dirty dishes to do.
The 100 Word Challenge, a writing prompt created by Velvet Verbosity, takes a single theme to tell a story in only 100 words ~ no more, no less. This week’s theme is ‘Doing the dishes.’
Trifecta, a weekly one-word prompt, challenges writers to use that word in its third definition form, using no less than 33 words or no more than 333. The week’s prompt is: Ample [adj. \ˈam-pəl\] 3: buxom, portly
Thin spiral notebook 
Thanks for the new word ( orts) and a very descriptive “pig-out”!
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So I thought I commented, but I guess that was just the twitter exchange. 😉 So yeah, lost my appetite it was so good.
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oh yay! I can imagine Ursula devouring her food like there is no tomorrow. You painted the picture so well.
Congratulations for the first place finish. 🙂
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oh, my . . . never know quite what to expect of you . . . which is what makes it SO good. Um, my tummy just growled. 🙂
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So there is a upside to gluttony! I knew it! Congratulations on your win!
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Terrific description, Tara. Though I’m swearing off chips for awhile.
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As previous comments say, disgustingly wonderful.
Who says every visual has to be pleasant and appealing?
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Your words: “Tiny orts are scattered across an ample chest…” convey a vivid and discomforting image. The whole piece is very well done, I was just hoping as I read that something would happen which would redeem this woman, but this was not to be.
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Loved how you did not repeat “corn” and chose “maize,” and I have to crack up, because this is how my sister eats. Honest to Pete, she’s an omnivore who would eat the paper plate if you didn’t stop her!!!! Not all poems have to be “kind.” We are writing what we imagine as well as what we see! Very nicely done. Peace, Amy
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