Kindly remove the melancholy evidences." He offered to provide a substitute, but the edge of my zest seemed dulled.
I made dry toast the climax of my chastely simple repast.

It was simple and it was chaste, but otherwise not altogether what I should characterize as a successful repast.

It lacked, as it were.
Let us pass along to noontime.

Ere noontime came I was consumed with gnawing pains of emptiness.

As nearly as I might judge, I contained naught save vast hollow spaces and acoustics and vacuums and empty, echoing, neglected convolutions.