Slices of ham never impressed me. They were never meant to. My family just like them sliced thin. I watched as father sliced a ham and wondered, what happens after that? Well, eating the slices, of course. But what after that? Eating what was on the rest of the plate, I guess. But then what?
Reading a book. Watching a television show.
But then what?
Bed time
Then what?
Waking up.
Then what?
I never took it much further than a few Then Whats. Because life seems long only when Then What? has nothing afterward.