And Then The Nostalgia Hit Me, Part 3

So, I was talking to a friend a long, long time ago about the phrase “variety is the spice of life.” What kind of variety? If I am adding variety to another person’s life, what spice am I adding?  Well, it all turned into this dream that I wrote down and shaped just a little.

Please enjoy.

It was Wednesday, september twelfth, when I decided that I wanted to cook. Nothing fancy, just a simple soup, which I would enjoy with a piece of cheese toast to dip in. So I gathered the few simple ingredients to add to my soup, and set them to simmer and cook in a large pot. Knowing that the longer it brewed, the more flavorful it would turn out, I decided therefore to give it a few hours while I enjoyed a nap and walk with a friend.

It wasn’t long after I had left that Dante Alighieri came, and sampled the broth. His eyes closed with a deep sigh at the simplicity of the dish, and decided that his culinary assistance was necessary. He carefully measured in some herbs, and gave it a stir before feeling content with the mixture. With that, he continued on his path to Cocytus.

The smells of cooking brought 3 penguins through my door, who sipped the soup through their bills. honking to each other like mothers at a potluck, they waddled off and returned with a fish, which they gutted and added to the soup. They took their taste, honked in approval, and continued on their way.

3 missourians came next, and decided that it was too bland, and dumped in enough pepper to make an elephant sneeze, a dash of saffron, and some diced chicken.

A friendly kidnapper couldn’t help see this, and stealthily crept into the kitchen. Silent as a mouse, she added alphabet shaped noodles and a pinch of brown sugar.

Finally a prophet came, tasted the soup, and decided that grilled cheese sandwiches were necessary for this soup. With all the calmness of a father cooking for a son, he made 2 sandwiches, hoping there would be a person I could share this meal with.

Sure enough, thats when I came back. My simple soup that I had planned was now almost a stew, but I did get a grilled cheese sandwich. As i tasted the soup, I could taste the flavors of each person who added, and could tell who they were…. some I did like, some I didn’t think belonged in my soup, but, as I wiped the last of the stew out of my bowl, I couldn’t help but feel satisfied with the meal all together.

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