Waiting for Permission

My contribution for the Lillie McFerrin Five Sentence Fiction challenge. This weeks word was Waiting.
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She stood, illumined by the stark light flooding out of the refrigerator door...waiting.

She stared, without seeing, half empty shelves populated with salvaged margarine containers and burp-able plastic boxes that held the remains of meals remembered, as the cold brightness streamed around her.

Never allowed the luxury of exciting ingredients stirred together to nourish only herself, she existed on a mishmash of dishes left behind, relegated to her by the waste not, want not upbringing of a frugal parent.

Never permitted the simple idea of procuring something to delight, just for herself, she grew fat, bitter, and brittle having lived off the empty calories and agitated molecules of warmed over gotta-go's.

Had permission been given, she could have dined on feasts of freshness, fiestas of spices, but her Soul had forgotten that the only true authority she needed to heed, was standing in the glare of an open door staring at what she believed she deserved.