“Oh! There's a straw!" she exclaimed excitedly, pushing her face toward the straw and straight into the bush of blooming oregano, inhaling its fresh aroma as she sucked up a creamy warm liquid. It was a soup, but it took her a few minutes to figure out exactly what kind of soup--- it was sweet and buttery and soft. And then she placed it. "Potato!" she cried, her eyes darting across the table to Eamon. Eamon's eyes sparkled in return, and he submerged his face into the tiny herb garden. "Point proven, once again," he added, after coming up for air. She tried to sip it slowly, savoring the sweet flavor and velvety texture, but it was too delicious.”
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