Tropical Lunch

From the mountains of West Virginia, I can smell it, like it was being cooked in my kitchen. Oh the cracking of the crabs to get the meat out, the seasoning, all the leaves and bushes we use. The cracking of the oven as it heats up, the smell of it baking. I close my eyes and it is like I am there, in that tropical kitchen, the scent bellowing out of the kitchen door, clouding my world, so i close my eyes, smack my lips, begin chewing then realized, my imagination is running away with me.

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