My friendship with nuts

{This was written while the writer was in a fit of dementia from her empty packet of roasted peanuts. You have been warned. }

Peanuts;

You know those packed peanuts, the one which have been roasted to perfection. And all you have to do is shell it. It is so simple, yet, so relaxing, the marketeers got this one right. When you crack that nut, you can her the blessed crunch that says that yes, you can break stuff if you want to. Then, you will see two nuts nestled inside there cozily.

Then, as you gloat and feel smug about the fruits of your labour, you pop them in your mouth. You await the enjoyment you will feel as your teeth grind them into nothingness, swallow, and let your other organs do the rest. But, as you taste it, you lucky person, you realise that you have just eaten a salty peanut. The peanut craved by all nut-heads in the world.

Obviously, you reach out for another one. But, this time, you lack the finesse and care you took for your first nut. You clumsily crack it open. You don't even stop to admire the size and the browness of the shell in your hand, you didn't even appreciate the 'crack' sound which comes from popping it.

You giddily swallow it up and bite. But, there is something wrong. This is not the ultimate nut. It lacked the salty tang, the subtle smell of your first nut. This is just some common, run-of-the-mill nut!

Incensed now, you grab another nut. Over and over again, never stopping until-

The nut has returned again. Smiling in bliss, you automatic nut-cracking movement stilled to enjoy the moment. As you enjoy the salty nut.

You reach out for another one. But, now, the bag is empty. Bah! Foiled again!

I will be back for you nut, just you wait.