‘Oh god. I almost forgot the food!’ Alice ambled down the steps to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door.

            Their refrigerator was unlike anyone else’s. It was so clearly demarcated into left and right halves, with the contents of one half being a complete contrast with those in the other half. It looked like it could be the ‘poster refrigerator’ for a Healthy Living and Eating campaign. Just put a sign saying ‘Dos’ on the left and one saying ‘Don’ts’ on the right and it would be perfect. No prizes for guessing who owned which half.

            Dana’s half contained mainly organic fruits and vegetables, a bottle of low-fat dressing she made herself (‘this is dressing? I’m like eating salad drowned in plain water!’ Alice had exclaimed after trying some of Dana’s salad), protein shakes, isotonic drinks and energy bars. Alice‘s, on the other hand, was cramped with chips of every conceivable flavour (including the high-fibre apple chips Dana had bought for Alice. ‘It’s called chips for a reason, Dana. It’s supposed to be crunchy.’ The packet was full still, minus the one ‘chip’ Alice tried and regurgitated out), chocolate and candy bars and a supply of ‘double-the-filling’ Oreos that when stacked up could probably reach the ceiling of the kitchen. The only two edibles they shared – artichokes and carrot sticks (Dana insisted on organic), sat smack in the middle.

            It took almost an hour to clear the fridge of her food. Not that there was a lot of food to clear (though there was a sizable amount), it was the deliberation of what to remove and what to leave that took up most of the time. Some things weren’t really just hers or Dana’s, they were theirs’. Like Aporot juice. It was a mixture of apple, orange and carrot juice that Alice made for Dana regularly. Dana got so addicted to it that she requested for it every morning and now, Alice kept a fresh supply in the refrigerator. There was a bit of argument over the name though.

            ‘Aporot? Can’t you name it something else?’ Dana stared at the large cup of juice she was holding in her hands as if willing it to protest against the horrible name it had just been christened.