Jackson Ridell could feel the pressure from both of the parents watching him as he took their order, “…the steak, I would like it to be rare,” the husband licks his lips to his wife.  The wife stared in Jackson’s eyes, down into his soul.  He could feel his hands start to tremble, “erh… yeah, the steak… rare” he slowly confirmed as the veins on the top of her breast pulsed, yearning for his curiosity.  

Jackson was curious, he wasn’t sure if the mother had or had not been breastfeeding her newborn baby that was coddling her. The father could see Jackson pondering the fatal question in his mind.

The mother made an adjustment to the child and Jackson had his moment.

Preceding this moment, Jackson had too much coffee this certain morning.  He told himself not to look, but before he could do what his consciousness desired, his eyes dashed to the breast yielding baby. 

To what Jackson thought was a fraction of a second, his eyes lay engaging and his mind fixated on the new question he had conjured, “is that organic?”