blurry sense of smell
Cringing at the thought of another mundane day at work, Gerry fried his eggs slightly more than usual this morning, leaving them dry and less palatable. He shrugged it off, as we all so often do, and plugged through the rest of the day dreaming of a time when rote is suffixed with anomaly. Alas, such was not the case.
3 comments:
It's almost Friday, Gerry. You have one more day to get the eggs right before the weekend.
More lemon-pepper.
I never fry my eggs slightly more than usual. I BURN THEM.
Burn, burn yes they're gonna burn.
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