What is your favourite meal? Doesnt have to be proper, just something that puts a smile on your face. Can you think of it? Let me give you a hand.
Take a deep breath.
Close your eyes, picture it in your mind, let the shapes form, now slowly turn up the volume. Are the surroundings hazy?
Picture the people, tune them in, and let the colours flow, what does it taste of, describe it, like Hemingway does, you work up an appetite yet?
ok my turn. deep breaths.
I hear thumping,”Dinner in half an hour” its my mum’s voice coming from the kitchen. She’s tenderlising meat the old fashion way. I’m twelve and I’m running around the house, and i hear the sizzling sparkles, my mum is pan frying her world famous thinly sliced steaks. Dinner time, my brother and I run to the table. What is that gorgeous smell?
“Its steak”, my mum says, “you’ll like this.”
She spreads some ketchup on a piece of white bread and makes me my first steak sandwich. “Mmmm..”
What is your favourite meal? Doesnt have to be proper, just something that puts a smile on your face. Can you think of it? Let me give you a hand.
Take a deep breath.
Close your eyes, picture it in your mind, let the shapes form, now slowly turn up the volume. Are the surroundings hazy?
Picture the people, tune them in, and let the colours flow, what does it taste of, describe it, like Hemingway does, you work up an appetite yet?
ok my turn. deep breaths.
I hear thumping,”Dinner in half an hour” its my mum’s voice coming from the kitchen. She’s tenderlising meat the old fashion way. I’m twelve and I’m running around the house, and i hear the sizzling sparkles, my mum is pan frying her world famous thinly sliced steaks. Dinner time, my brother and I run to the table. What is that gorgeous smell?
“Its steak”, my mum says, “you’ll like this.”
She spreads some ketchup on a piece of white bread and makes me my first steak sandwich. “Mmmm..”
So what’s your recipe for smile?
image by jurijus azanova
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