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Passing Thought: Cereal Transports

I resisted the urge for fatty greasy sausage when visiting the Cafe at work today, and instead, forced myself to the gummy, pasty oatmeal section. I’m trying to give my heart what it needs, not what it craves. Once there I found they also have Cream-of-Wheat. I filled a small bowl, topped it with a modest sprinkling of brown sugar, and returned to my office. One bite, and suddenly I’m back in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania. I’m 9 years old, there is frost on the dual pane windows, a thick blanket of snow covering everything in sight, and the tea-kettle is whispering a fading note as the steam rises from the plastic bowl before me. I’m sitting on an off-white squeaky vinyl chair at an off-white laminated kitchen table, my older brother across from me, both of our faces still reddened and biting from the sting of multiple snowball impacts. Our wet galoshes lie askew next to the door way, frozen-wet over coats by their side, dripping rythmically onto the rubber mat beneath them. The thermal undershirts, sweatshirts and sweaters fail to keep the cool dampness from continuing to chill our bones. Brown sugar streaks quickly melt as I blend them into oblivion, steam rises before me, the aroma warms my nose, and the heat of the first bite begins to send warmth through my chest and stomach.

All is right with the world at that moment, and the smile on my face then only slightly exceeds the one brought on today by so simply a moment and memory, tied to a scent and a flavor.

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Written by gsm

10/16/2006 at 8:23 am

Posted in  Journal 

2 Responses

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  1. Great stuff….

    cp

    10/19/2006 at 10:35 pm

  2. Excellent writing, GM. It took me back to the breakfast table in Pennsylvania, and I’m not even from Pennysylvania!

    MC

    10/24/2006 at 7:15 am


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