text: Soup A butterfly flew right into Nancy’s pot of roast beef soup. Its wings instantly dissolved into slime of membranes. The pigments of the wings could be seen flowing into the murky soup. Unaware of the tragedy, Nancy picked up a ladle and gave the soup one last stir before turning down the heat. She put the ladle right on top of the butterfly carcass. The metal crushed down on the butterfly remaining body and partially ruptured it, releasing yellow guts and other liquefied organs. After finished stirring, she tasted the soup with a clean spoon. She scooped up the surface of the soup bringing up carrots, peas, and a piece of celery. Nancy put the hot spoon close to her mouth and gently blew on it to cool down. The soup tasted as she had hoped. That night, the family was taking dinner together. Nancy hd an uneasy feeling. But the delight of the soup kept her destructed. She took a bite of another piece of celery and unlike during the preparation, it was still quite crispy and aromatic. Now she wondered why the piece she had tasted earlier was soft, juicy and bitter.