A Serious Matter

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The air was rigid with pent-up tension. Everyone in the room knew exactly what needed to be done, but nobody was brave enough to do it.

"So... Who's gonna go first?"

All heads turned towards the speaker, who quickly bowed his head in silent apology. Not another word was spoken.

He was a new addition to the table; naïve to the way they did things. Soon, that would change.

Their silence was in vain - his question left a heavy burden on their minds. Everyone wanted to say it - but ulitmately it was impossible to speak.

A quiet murmur rose from the shamed speaker, who fidgeted with his tie while casting his gaze towards the table.

"Just wanna... over with..."

"Speak up!"

The invisible spotlight fell upon the head of a middle-aged business man, who sat at the head of the table.

He'd risen to his feet during his sharp snap. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He leaned heavily on the palms of his hands.

The younger man flinched and dragged a sleeve across his blonde fringe. A vein in his neck throbbed steadily.

"I... I want to get this over with, sir."

Each word that escaped his mouth was firm, steeled by his cracked voice.

The older man leaned back, sucking in a deep breath through his uneven teeth. His hand twitched, craving the feel of an old-fashioned cigar.

"We all want to get this over with, sonny. We all want to get this over with," he murmured.

We all want to get this over with. His words rang true through the minds of all eight people seated around the table.

The young man shook his head and reached forward, daring to take lead. Then he froze, timidly looking around at all of his fellow people.

He hesitated uncertainly, arm outstreched. Nobody had stopped him. Nobody had given him permission either.

"Should I...?"

The older man slowly leaned back in his seat, drawing a cigar from his pocket. There was no need for a gesture of any sort.

The youth swallowed dryly, bending his torso forward to reach further. An exasperated sigh escaped from one of the surrounding businessmen.

All eyes were on him.

Watching him.

Judging him.

Quivering, his hand slid under fragile crust, easing it from the rest with a steady pull. Threads of melted cheese bridged across the gap like thick spiderweb.

For a fleeting moment, the young man triumphantly held up his prize to be scrutinised by others.

Then he withdrew his arm and bit down into the succulent slice, savouring its mouthwatering taste without a thought.

After awhile, he consciously opened one eye and slowly looked around at the faces at the table.

With a sheepish smile, he pushed the box towards the head of the table, hoping nobody would think too ill of him.

"Pizza, sir?"

Relief rolled throughout the room in drones.

The first slice of pizza had been taken.

Their long-awaited lunch could finally begin.

The casual atmosphere stretched out, filled with small-talk and discussions about the company, accompanied by an occasional belch.

That is, until, the buzz slowly died down. Gradually, each pair of eyes turned towards the open pizza box with horror.

There was one slice left.

And so, the tense silence rose once more.

The End.
Please eat your pizza responsibly.