Спільний звук

“I said, what would you like to eat hun?” A woman’s voice in a country accent asked her. “I(…) I um(…) chicken and… something to drink.” She said still feeling out of it. “Coming right up.” The lady said as she left. Before long, she rested her eyes. She jumped at the sound—the impact of the plate hitting the table. The plate was heavy, piled high with freshly steaming food. When she looked at the plate, she saw it was rotisserie chicken, with thick cuts of buttered potatoes, and corn on the cob