At this moment words fail me, and my visions unclear…
No truer words having been spoken today. I’m going to go quickly because the page is actually quite blurry, something I might need to talk to someone about later.
There’s nothing more comforting than a simple peanut butter sandwich. I’d personally omit the white bread in favor of something a little more earthy, a cracked wheat possibly? No jams, jellies, no preserves adding yet more sugar to something that doesn’t require it. But banana does an excellent job of adding a layer of creaminess to my little bit of heaven. My mom has been making them for me since I was a small child, she volunteers to make them for me as an adult. Her job never quite finished?
It’s a simple metaphor – the inside is basic and hearty. The outer crust is something much more complicated. But it encapsulates who I feel I am. Of course I don’t wish to be celebrated on some wall menu in your local diner, my ego doesn’t require that. Someone wants to honor me in some way, put your hand on my shoulder and say “I got this, you rest.”
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “You, the Sandwich.”