The plate of steaming mashed potatoes was placed in front of me with a gentle plunk as it landed on the table. Its white, mealy inside was mixed with the tough, brown skin, that used to be covering the potato. It was glazed with bright golden butter and little flecks of black and white pepper and salt. the steam wafted up to my nose, carrying the mouth watering scent of my meal up my nostrils. I could hear my stomach growl as I stared at my mountain of goodness. I picked up my cold,hard fork as fast as politeness would allow and dug in.
As the hot potatoes entered my mouth, I was in heaven. The skins ground between my teeth and the insides mushed through my mouth. The creamy butter and salty potato mixed together in perfect harmony. As I swallowed, I could feel the warm mush sliding down my throat and landing in my stomach. I sat there, savoring the taste of my first bite before gobbling down another forkful of perfection.
When I finished, I leaned back in my chair with a contented sigh and patted my almost full stomach. I could not wait to have seconds.
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