<strong>Name</strong>: Jack Harth<br/><strong>Time</strong>:  About a year ago<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Elena<br/><br/>The kitchen was far from spacious, it was, in fact, very spartan in design; but that was okay. This place was good for its price, and really, the kitchen was just big enough for him.<br/><br/>Out on the counter are two plates, which already have toast on them. It was as she approach that he was busily using a spatula to distribute the scrambled eggs out onto each plate, about two eggs worth each.<strong>"Yeah, it's Jack."</strong>He said. He was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved, red t-shirt.<strong>"How're you doing? Hungry?" </strong><br/><br/>He talked as he worked, quickly sticking the pot under running water, and filling it. He'd leave it in the sink to soak. He then went back to the stove, and got off another pan, smaller than the last, and pushes three thin, turkey sausage links, out onto each plate. This pan, too, ends up filled with water and soaking in the sink, along with the spatula.