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Rise of the Sourdough
comedyEveryone5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
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.
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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