He ripped open the peel, violently squeezing the banana as it resisted his tug, the guts of it spilling out between his fingers and dripping slowly onto the floor.

He looked at the mess, shook his head in disappointment, and pulled away the rest of the peel, the four sides trailing like octopus legs across his knuckles. He tossed it toward the trash can, missing by half an inch and smearing yellow paste across the lip of the silver cylinder.

He shrugged. Someone else would clean it up. He didn’t need to worry.

He took the remaining parts of the banana and shoved them in his mouth, covering his entire face. It was disgusting, the way he wolfed it down, uncaring of any repercussions.

When he was done, he burped, spraying flecks of food on the table. Without even looking, he walked off, leaving his peel, his spit, his dignity behind.