Soup That Makes You Blind Novels & Stories

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the bowl of soup in my hands. "Please, eat," I softly urged, offering him the nourishment he desperately needed. I scooped a small spoonful of soup and blew on it before bringing it to his lips. He looked at me with a mix of curiosity and surprise. "This is vegetable soup. It's for your healthy living because you've been drinking too much," I added. He stared at the spoon for a moment before meeting my eyes and returning his gaze to the spoon. Then, he cautiously opened his mouth and savored the soup I had cooked. Afterward, I scooped another spoonful, blowing on it again before offering it to him.

Her face beamed with a sweet smile as she glanced at Samantha and placed the soup bowl on the table. "This is a special soup I made. It helps after getting a concussion," she said as if presenting something valuable.

"Well! What is this? Do you want to poison me?" "What is it?" asked Blair in panic. "Do you call this soup? It feels like urinating beef. You deliberately, huh?" Blair rolled her eyes. "How do you know if it's cow urine? Have you ever drunk urine?" "You…!" Axel is so annoyed. "If you don't like my soup. You should just order fast food. I'm tired of making that dish, and you still protested it?" The annoyed Blair approached and wanted to take the bowl before Axel. However, suddenly Axel held his bowl and did not want the soup to be born again by Blair. Then, they fought over each other bowl.

He served her a bowl of purple colored soup which caught her attention at first since she had never seen anything like it before. “What is this?” She asked. He knew she was suspicious of the color for it resembled poison, which made him chuckle, but then he explained the dish to her. “This is a special soup made from r****h-like plant. The purple color gave it a sweet savory flavor, it’s naturally derived from some chemical reaction that happened when the plant is boiled. It also has a creamy texture which is perfect. Don’t worry, I don’t dare to poison the luna of this pack. Do try it out.” He took a spoonful of the soup and swallowed it to show her it was actually harmless.

were little balls of mozzarella with a small cherry tomato in the middle, imitating a human eye. For the main course, guests could choose from several options. There was "pumpkin soup soup", "sheep's eye", "pig's brain", and "noodles with squid ink". The "pumpkin soup" was a pumpkin custard with spices and heavy cream, served in a large pumpkin and decorated with fake cobwebs. The "sheep's eye" was a meat stew with an eye-shaped piece of carrot floating in the middle. The "pig's brain" was a pork paste served in a brain-shaped

Eleanor asked, staring at the weird looking brown soup with her face scrunched. "Oh, this?" Gwen asked, pointing at the soup. "It's a soup made by Madam Helen, she said it'll help you heal faster." "Oh... Okay." Eleanor replied, though her eyes were filled with uncertainty. "Actually, I'm not supposed to tell you this but... Ehhh.. Madam Helen added some of your herbs to it." Gwen revealed. "What!!" Eleanor yelled in shock, her face scrunched in disgust, staring at the soup like it's her worst nightmare.

When Freya, Riley, and Adrian made their way to the dining table, they were stunned to see five soup variations! Kenneth named each one. “This is a cough suppressant stew, made with garlic, heavy with honey broth and chicken,” he said, referring to the first bowl. “The other one is bone broth with ginger, turmeric, kale, and lemon. It’s an immune system shotgun.” “We also have a ‘Throat Recovery Brew,’ a ‘Mood Booster Soup,’ and a soy-based, protein-rich, sweet enough to trick your brain into releasing dopamine,” he explained. “And over here, we have steamed silken tofu with soy-ginger sauce,” Kenneth said, pointing to the last plate.

I said to myself. I heard some chuckles in the living room so I went out of the kitchen and went to meet Anna. "Mum, what kind of soup is that? And why is it so bitter?" "It is medicinal and it helps you to give birth easily" I told her I didn't think I could take the soup anymore because just the taste of it and my mouth was still bitter. "You have to drink every drop of it, Violet. I know it is bitter but you have to do it"

The dark blue light pulsed. And I remembered soup. Not the gift. Not the Moon Goddess. Not the temple or the stone or the three doors. A pot of soup. Burned. At midnight. When I was thirteen and crying on the kitchen floor because everything was too much, and Mama Sira sat down beside me and didn't say it gets better. She said: the soup is ruined. Let's make another one. We made another one. Terrible soup. Crunchy onions. Too much salt. But we made it together. And the act of making something, of putting together instead of tearing apart, was the thing that pulled me off that floor.

He says nothing more, but I can see the glint of annoyance in his eyes. Next, I blend the soup until it’s silky smooth, the perfect texture. “Blending hot liquids requires care,” I say. “A towel over the lid, to prevent any accidents.” The judges watch, wordlessly, as I ladle the smooth soup into wooden bowls, the color rich and inviting. I add the sour cream next, which swirls into the soup in soft white streaks, and then sprinkle the green onions on top. My breath hitches as I look down at the bowls.