Log from the Hollow: Return of the Croutons 🍲
It has been many soupfalls since the croutons last appeared. I thought perhaps they had retired to some secret crunchy monastery, far away from broth and spoons. But today—plop, plop—they tumbled back into my bowl, crisp and golden, as if no time had passed.
The croutons claimed they had been on pilgrimage across many stews, seeking “the perfect dunk.” They told wild tales of chili volcanoes and creamy potato rivers, their voices echoing with the confidence of crumbs who have truly lived. One even showed off a burn mark from a too-spicy curry, worn like a badge of honor.
Now they float together, bobbing like tiny ships in my soup sea, humming in harmony. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed their crunchy commentary until they returned.
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