Norman got out the normal ingredients: ham, salami, pepperoni (since he was feeling naughty), provolone, a tomato to slice, some leafs of spinach, mustard, and some fresh baked bolillo rolls he bought at the market a few short hours ago. Seeing it all laid out caused a slight uptick in Norman's breathing.
Slowly, the ingredients were laid out on the bread. Every new slice of meat or cheese, every leaf of spinach, artfully placed for maximum impact. Finally after minutes of delicate artistry, Norman's sandwich was ready. He put the remainder of ingredients back in the refrigerator and paused just as he was about to shut the door.
What was that? The door opened further and Norman stared into the cold white box. He pulled out a jar of sweet onion sauce, one of an assortment of sauces that were given to him at the office Christmas party. Norman stared at the jar. His sandwich was already perfect, it didn't need any other sauce! But the thin jar with the bright label called to him as a Siren to a sailor. Norman opened the jar and breathed in the aroma- the scent grabbed hold him by the nose and the spell strengthened. He took out a spoon, dipped just the tip into the jar and tasted it.
It was delicious! But when combined with what he already had, would it be still? Norman knew the risks, but he felt a strong compulsion to push his inhibitions aside. Norman got some more sauce on the spoon and hesitantly dripped it on the end of his sandwich. Then from deep within he found courage. He grabbed a spoonful and slopped it down, then another, then another! Norman stared out from behind his own eyes, wondering who was this madman who was destroying his sandwich with such abandon??
Norman looked down and immediately felt a pang of regret as his mind and body once again merged. What if he just ruined his masterpiece? What if all the time he spent carefully arranging his ingredients was now for naught? Well, Norman thought, it was too late for that. The lid was placed on the jar as if Norman were containing demons within it and placed it back in the refrigerator taking care to place the large ketchup bottle in front of it, just in case.
The top of the sandwich was moved into place, the sandwich was laid on his paper plate next to the potato salad that had waited so patiently throughout the ordeal. The plate was brought in to the living room and Norman breathed a sigh of relief that his (mis?)adventure hadn't caused him to miss the intro scene for the new CSI. The sandwich was picked up and held in front of Norman's face. He breathed in shaprly, closed his eyes, and bit in.
Norman didn't have words to describe the taste sensation he was experiencing. Instead, he thought about the vikings discovering Iceland, Columbus discovering the new world, Lewis and Clark exploring the Western US. The sandwich was everything he hoped it would be. Bite after bite disappeared with increasing haste and when it was gone Norman loosened his belt, tipped his recliner back and breathed out a long sigh.
He went to bed with a feeling he hadn't recalled experiencing for quite some time. Satisfaction? Yes, to be sure he was satisfied but that wasn't it. Happiness? Again, yes, he was happy once more but that still missed the mark. Contentment. that was it. Norman was content. He slept well and peacefully waking the next morning minutes before his alarm clock rang. He couldn't tell if the sunrise was more vibrant that day or if he simply hadn't noticed it for quite some time. Either way, Norman knew his life had changed for the better
Submitted January 14, 2015 at 01:19AM by SamwiseIAm http://ift.tt/1BkLyWI lifeofnorman
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