The room was empty when I walked inside. In front of me lay a table and on that table lay a pie. I took a whiff; it smelled awesome. That prompted me to take a byte out of it. The taste stirred my very existence. The satisfaction it gave to me was unmatched.
The very next moment, however, a horde of people appeared inside the room. I left the pie alone and gazed around. The room suddenly seemed much larger. There were many more tables and pies now.
Everybody was talking about a certain pie they wanted to have. They queued up quickly to get it. Looking at them, I forgot about my pie and joined the line.
The queue moved slowly. The wait was frustrating. Every passing moment would remind me of my pie. That made the wait even more torturous. Yet, I did not endeavour to break the line. I still wanted the pie everybody was talking about. Meanwhile, there were people collecting near my pie.
When I finally reached the front of the queue, I found only crumbles of the pie left. I put a few of them in my mouth. They didn't stir me at all.
At that moment, a strange relief spread over me. I rushed towards my pie. Sure, it had been half-eaten. But it still gave me the same pleasure. And Nothing else matters. I know how to bake it once again.