Claire
My dad makes the most delicious meatballs. He was given the recipe from his grandmother in her final days, and whenever he's thinking of her, he cooks up a whole big batch. As soon as I came through the door this afternoon, I could smell the aroma of rosemary and garlic wafting from the kitchen, and my stomach growled in anticipation.
I went upstairs to get changed out of my school clothes but decided to sit in the living room to do my homework, not wanting to wander too far from the kitchen, just in case Dad needed someone to do a taste test. I open my binder and begin writing a practice essay based on the theme of satire, which we'd been studying this semester, using one of the past exam questions as a reference.
My teachers have always said my execution of an essay is great,
