My Experience At The Home Cooked Food Essays

1777 Words 8 Pages
It began as a day like any other. It was a beautiful Saturday; I had spent the entire day cleaning and preparing the yard for visitors. Today was the day that the universally renowned Ixchel was to accompany my friends and I for dinner. I had spent the remainder of my day that wasn’t consumed by either cleaning or yard work preparing a fantastic meal. I served a pork tenderloin covered in a dijon apple glaze, I still remember seeing the steam escaping from the meat and the expressions of ecstasy as my guests ate like it were their last meal, little did we know. I miss home cooked food. I don’t know how long we have been down here. After a while, the days blur into nights and the nights bleed into days, with each passing moment whisking a piece of sanity with it. How I long to feel the sun on my skin, to feel a summer’s breeze caress my body, or to once more smell the aroma of freshly cut grass. I can’t live like this anymore. I hope they find us. Day forty-three, our food supplies are diminishing and unrest is beginning to spread amongst us like a virus. I fear for the worst as our fate is within clear view and lurches forward with every tally mark inscribed on the wall, signifying another day closer to the inevitable. I sometimes find myself lost in thought, pondering the vast number of outcomes, when in reality there are only two; die up there or die down here. How could I have been so selfish? I condemned my friends to death, I keep reminding myself that it was in my…

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