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Mom's Curry
Mischief smells like curry cooking in the asain chicken my mom makes for dinner.
She hands me my plate that looks like the sound of the student section at a football game.
The rainbow of colors making up this meal feels nauseous in my stomach.
It sounds smooth with small bumps on it, like ceiling texture.
Once the burning, fiery smell hits my nostrils, my vision sounded like a siren of blindness.
No way I’ll eat the squishy slop that looks like the smell of what I dissected in biology yesterday.
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