It was a normal Tuesday at good ol’ Freeburg Community High School. Our rambunctious lunch group sat around the table to enjoy the lunch of the day, chili. Now you see, I had brought my lunch, but I wasn’t allowing that stop me from enjoying a steaming bowl of chili. My bowl of chili warmed my hands, heart, stomach, my esophagus when it was occasionally too hot, and eventually my lap. Between all of the jokes and laughter I hadn’t noticed that my hands were shaking a tad more than normal; if I had noticed, I would have done the smart thing and set my bowl down rather than hold it. Needless to say that I did not consider the consequences if I kept clutching the vessel containing delicious wonderment. I was far too focused on chatting and warming
