Having turned the chicken, nearly burning myself on the oven for the millionth time, I sit and watch his expertise cutting of the veggies. The large knife just a part of his nimble hands. The clump chop sound of it as it cuts through its victims on its journey, thus ending on the cutting board. The crackle of the lettuce as he peals leaves off its head. The bubbling of the potatoes boiling above blue gas stove flames. The chug churning sound of the dishwasher in motion. He clump crunch chops the lettuce into bite size pieces, and plops them into the bowl with the other massacred veggies, dieing in his wake...
I end this blog post, in fervid hunger...
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