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Sandhya popped her chai back into the microwave and stared at an empty box of Coco Puffs. She thought,

Perhaps breakfast
Shall fulfill
Its promise
Of healthy big
Innings.

Sitting at the table, together, was decidedly confrontational. In chipped blue ceramic bowls,

Oatmeal
Of tension
Bubbled
And thickened
Till words
Burst blueberries
Bleeding purple
In stickiness

Doodling on the patch of dust she’d missed yesterday, she slipped her toes into pom-pom slippers, oddly comforted by the familiarity of being

Cracked open
Run over easy
On crumbling brown
Toast.

Breakfast. No — breakfast does not make champions.

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