The sandwich of Ech

Sounds horrible, but it’s a long story — not too long, but too long to suit the purposes of it’s origin.

An Ech sandwich is of the variety that are easy to make — so long as everything is on hand.  The sandwich was very good — trying to think of an interesting way to say that, brought a month’s delay in doing so, and a lot of divergent projects.  Served on olive bread from the Pleasanton Bakery:  Seared fervido cerebros, tomatoes, dill pickles, onion, daiya and spinach — tossed with mint chutney and pomegranate-balsamic vinegar.

There are only so many ways to say, the sandwich is very good, to describe the various flavors.  They came together nicely, but with little more to say than that, musing started, on how to tie it in to some sort of story — a little dendritic tingle, solely for the sake of entertainment. The subject fell upon was Ech, the semi-mechanical, dusky-brown Nepid, and Captain of the Kuwk, as he took on a greater prominence in the final chapter of monsters — presumably, his origins would make such a sandwich something he would appreciate.

His history, as it turned out, became a little more complicated than expected, and even a brief, sketched outline elongated to several thousand words:  This rambling, already, exceeds what is necessary — sandwich, good — the bloated bloviation on poor Ech, certainly would have gone unobserved…  But it was an interesting story, also one that really has no real contribution to the greater ideas — though, there are a handful that came about anyway, for different reasons, and even the story of origination became more of a character bit…   As often is, Ech was both a victim of monsters, as well as arguably became one, himself: It’s all relative — dependent upon perspective.   Most monsters find justification for their actions, at some point: Some come to live with regret, others — like Ech — find their experiences so incomprehensible that their own actions taken against the perpetrators never bear a second thought.

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