Behold! My Sandwich...

Oh majestic sandwich. How I wish I were still consuming thee...I made you in the Employee Dining Room and you turned out better than I dared in my little heart to dream. Betwixt two slices of fresh rye bread spread with mayo and spicy mustard, I placed hot, juicy pieces of corned beef. Atop the tasty meat was crisp lettuce, shredded to perfection and two ripe slices of tomato. French fries and the tiniest drizzle of Thousand Island dressing completed thee, dear sandwich. Afterwhich I consumed thee...consumed thee till all that was left was your memory and the lingering smell of fried potatoes. Gone but not forgotten, your image will haunt me in the night when midnight cravings crowd my dreams of sandwich bliss. Whenever I hear the words "sandwich" or "bocadillo" I'll think of thee, helpless on my cold white plate. I remember the way you felt, pressed between my teeth as I chewed...the burning in my stomach as you filled the empty void. Thou wast so vulnerable to my carnal desires...I devoured you, and now you are no more.