A guy came in the Gift House. He had a box under his arm. "I don't really want to part with these," he said, "but my wife doesn't seem interested in making onion soup. I bought them hoping that she would. But she won't. Maybe there's somebody out there who'd like them."
He pulled a set of four brown covered ceramics pots from the box. We set them down on the back counter, where all the china and kitchen stuff goes. They didn't get taken right away. But last week, when I went to work at the Gift House, they were gone. All I can think about now is the taste of onion soup on a cold winter night - -and how maybe somebody's having some right now.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Soup for the Onion Lovers Soul
A guy came in the Gift House. He had a box under his arm. "I don't really want to part with these," he said, "but my wife doesn't seem interested in making onion soup. I bought them hoping that she would. But she won't. Maybe there's somebody out there who'd like them."
He pulled a set of four brown covered ceramics pots from the box. We set them down on the back counter, where all the china and kitchen stuff goes. They didn't get taken right away. But last week, when I went to work at the Gift House, they were gone. All I can think about now is the taste of onion soup on a cold winter night - -and how maybe somebody's having some right now.
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