I like listening to people tell stories even if it's just about what they had for lunch, for a moment I am captured in their world and stolen by their words. Now as I continue to listen to people I see that not everyone can tell stories well, some people stray from the truth of what happened and exaggerate or hide details in an attempt to impress or keep face with whoever they're speaking to.
I had the most luxurious assortment of succulent pasteurized fowl and an incredible bushel of fresh vegetation comforted by matured curd cultivated over years of careful care and all surrounded by freshly risen buns that are as firm as a father's hand but as soft as a mother's kiss.
Basically I had a really nice chicken sandwich.
