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i rarely do this, as the title announces
hi mom, i'm a self-proclaimed small scale writer now.

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Sunday, 15 October 2017

Guests Blogpost#7




I’m an anxious person, especially during those last few hours I prepare for the guest dinner.

The gang had been planning to gather at my place one fine Saturday night, I was excited to share my taste in food with the ones I’ve shared an epitome of my life with. My colleagues are probably the only people I’ve been so constantly in contact with. It’s weird as I’ve always been told that they’ve never really gotten along with their work mates and only around the occasions. I feel like I fit into the group and I was longing to sit by the table to share a meal. Everyone’s got a different taste but I’ve fine-tuned to balance out the flavorings severed. Starting from how green the celeries are to be and the garnish scent that floods the nose, always brings me a smile. Out of all senses, the sense of taste is the strongest. The most pungent of smells cannot compete with the euphoria a mouthful of delicious food can do.

And there I stood as the clock ticked closer to eight, crafting a masterpiece in the kitchen. Spice after spice, slice after slice, I let Mozart’s symphony flood my kitchen. I could almost picture the perfection.  The shortcut to cooking is non-existent; your efforts will be valuable. As for me, I’ve had a much reserved sense of flavor and been fond of handpicking what reaches the table, especially the meat. I’ve ensured every slice of potato and every drop of wine is of perfection. All that went through my mind while picking out that ’78 Cornac was how it’ll blend with the meat and my special seasoning.

Performing the last few touches to the meal, the doorbell rang for its first time in a while. I’ve never been a social person, I’ve barely had guests or even interactions for that matter. But it rang and one by one, I greeted my colleagues with a charismatic smile. The way Stephanie’s eye batted as she picked up the aroma from my kitchen was enough to satisfy my mind. All seven of them have come to my humble little home to share their minds for a vivid experience. Wine poured, small talk exchanged and knives set by the table, everything was ready. Exclamations and excitement were conveyed as soon as they started on my meal. I sat by in silence, enjoying the beauty of what I’ve given creation to. That is when Paul brought up the fun question, “Where is Tracy?”, oh little did Paul know, Tracy had already been here before the six arrived. I smiled away at the question with a shrug of my shoulders and the crowd responded the same. Tracy was the main course.


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