This is a response to the January 27, 2025 Muse on Monday writing prompt. Cookipocalypse Dude, there’s only one cookie left, Grant texted me. No. No no no no no. These weren’t just any cookies, these were Brenda’s chocolate chip supreme cookies. They weighed half a pound each and she only made them a few…
Tag: working
Dangerous Texts
Dangerous Texts I’m on the roof. I’m going to jump. Some days I wish I didn’t have a brother. No, I don’t mean that. Truly. Stop joking around, I text back. Get back in the apartment. I can’t deal with this right now. The bakery is quiet, but I’m at work. I don’t have time…
I, Fry Cook
I, Fry Cook Burger Lux felt like the unholy fusion of a crypt and a factory. A craptory, as I called it. There was no dining area, just four drive-thru windows along one side of the building. Behind the windows, a swarm of machines cut and fried and wrapped and packed 24 hours a day,…
The Green-Walled Treehouse 