“Oh Winston,” whispered Julia. “I had the most wonderful dream.”
“Really?” Winston replied, softly, careful that his voice not be detected by the microphone above the bed.
“It was of a meal served to us as a reward. We got to eat the same things the Inner Party members eat. You wouldn’t believe the foods! Such luxury!”
“How could you imagine them?” Winston asked. “Have you ever seen these foods?”
“Once, I caught a glimpse of a poster unfurled in an office. There were blocks of green things that looked frozen solid, and a plate with brown things on it, and some kind of red object filled with yellow bits. There was also a glass bowl with yellow and red shiny things in it.”
“Sounds delicious,” Winston said, shifting his weight silently.
“Very probably,” Julia said wistfully.
“How could you tell they were foods?” asked Winston, his curiosity piqued.
“The plate and the boxes, mainly,” Julia murmured, “but I don’t know. I could be mistaken.”
“Best, perhaps not to think of it,” offered Winston. “The Thought Police wouldn’t like it if they caught you fantasizing about imagined foodstuffs.”
“You’re right, Love,” sighed Julia, and turned on her side.
Microwave Miracles, Sanyo, 1982