It was taking shape, he was finally making progress. He’d spent a lot of time on it. Unbeknownst to him, there was someone else interested too. Just as he turned to pick a piece from the floor, the little figure tore it down and sat there giggling. He cried:
Filed under 55 Fiction, Project 365
When time's hard, Chips are down,
And Life, like old curd, seems sour,
There's nothing better to sweeten it up,
Than some hot spicy Idli Vada Sambar.
- Anonymous
(because I know the poem sucks) :P
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Idli Vada Sambar 