Mmm, soup.
Slowly stirring the soup. Smell the aroma as it colors the room around you with golds and reds. Don’t rush. Good soup is made with patience and care. A puff of steam caresses your cheek. Closed eyes behind show a face that takes breath away. Stomach grumbling, growling, gasping for a taste. Patience, my darling... Aromatic melodies entrance your mind. Hypnotic, alluring, comforting. Ward against the cOld. Partner on lonely nights while you sit in front of the fire. Mind’s eye shows faces, happy; smiling, content; stomachs quiet.