"Your meal is getting cold, Edric," Margaret said, observing that he had been turning and stirring the porridge that lay still and thick on his plate. "Erm...no..I am eating." He stuttered after Margaret had pulled him out of his thoughts, lifting the spoon which was now heavily coated with porridge to his mouth with intention of forcing himself to eat.
"I have been observing you for a few minutes now, you have not taken a single spoon, or is it that the food is not up to your palate?" Margaret asked, wanting to know what the issue was.
"It is not that mother. I love porridge and this particular one is so delicious. It is just so unfortunate that I have no appetite at the moment." He explained. "I have noticed that for a few days now you have been kind of moody and withdrawn. What is the
