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Rise of the Sourdough

comedyEveryone
5 contributors · 3 paragraphs deep

Nadia grabbed her phone and called her roommate Pim, who fed Gerald on weekends. "Did you write a note FROM my sourdough?" she demanded. Long pause. "I thought YOU wrote it," Pim said slowly. "Nadia. I have never touched the thermostat." Behind Nadia, the kitchen tap turned itself on.

Pim rushed home and they faced the jar together. Gerald had spelled out a full sentence in flour: I JUST WANT IT WARMER. THAT IS ALL. Pim leaned in, fascinated. "He's not scary," she whispered. "He's just cold." Nadia exhaled. "Fine. Gerald. Let's hear your demands." The jar bubbled, pleased.

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A possible continuation

They sat down and signed a peace treaty in flour. Gerald got 74 degrees and a feeding schedule. In return, he agreed to stop writing notes at 3 a.m. He even shook Nadia's finger with a tiny dough hand. After that the apartment was warm, the bread was perfect, and nobody touched the thermostat without asking Gerald first.

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Inés Ferro
11 votes · future 1 of 1