Fantasy VS. Reality: Logic

Fantasy:

I hadn’t eaten in three days.

Before me sat a perfectly calibrated trap called brunch: aromatic bacon, hot apple pie, truffles, and fresh coffee—all bespelled for maximum aroma. One little nibble and my village would go poof!

That fiend knew me so well.

“I will endure,” I vowed.

There was a scuffle in the hall.

A blur of fur—
A crash—
The villain’s goofy Doberman flew out the door, chasing an energetic dust bunny, leaving me and the chair I was bound to lying sideways on the floor.

I couldn’t reach the food.

“…Good boy,” I breathed.

Reality:

“ Ooh! What’s that?” I asked.

“Mom forgot we were coming over and left enchiladas for Dad,” my sister said, holding up a note, “then went off to her book club.”

We looked at the plate: delicious oblong lumps drowned in a spicy sauce and cheese, beans, rice, the works.

“How many?”

“Three.”

We looked at each other.

“Dad is trying to lose weight.”

A pause.

“I’ll get the forks.”