Everyone talked amongst themselves, sharing jokes and stories galore. Their joy filled the walls of pictures of the same people that sat near me. Between sentences they would shovel delicious food into their mouths, still maintaining the ability to listen. I observed their interactions, and how their plates were plentiful, almost neverending. With each bite they seemed to increase their resonating joy, their warmth. Collectively between the dozen of relatives that were not my own, and the heater that fought off the nipping cold air outside, the room was a small hot box of happiness.
Except I couldn't feel any of it. It was as if it dissipated before getting to me. I looked to my left to an empty seat, reminding me of my hungry stomach. I began to start on my plate of food, hoping it would have the same effect on me as it was having on everyone else.
Only my plate was empty.
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