“Dinner is ready!” mom shouted from the kitchen.
Dad, daughter and son walked through the door.
They sat around the table, the table for four.
“Blood soup again?”
“Blood soup all the time!”
“Blood soup today.”
“Blood soup is all we've got, blood soup is all we have. By the blood soup we live, by the blood soup we die,” mom said.
The rest of the family looked down at their bowls, and clenched their jaws.
They began eating.
— Bastian Espada
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