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Rise of the Sourdough

comedyEveryone
5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep

Nadia grabbed her car keys and decided to just leave for the day. But the front door wouldn't open. The deadbolt was packed solid with risen dough, soft and warm and gently breathing. A note was stuck to it: STAY. WE HAVE SO MUCH TO DISCUSS. Nadia tugged the handle and the dough tugged back.

Trapped, Nadia sighed and sat on the floor by the door. "Okay, Gerald. You win. Talk." The dough in the lock relaxed, and the deadbolt clicked free. A polite note rose up: THANK YOU. NOW. THE THERMOSTAT. Nadia laughed despite herself. "You really care about two degrees, huh." Tap. Tap. Yes.

What happens next?

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A possible continuation

Nadia got up, walked to the thermostat, and bumped it to 74 while Gerald watched. The dough in the lock melted away completely, and the door swung open to fresh air and freedom. But Nadia didn't leave. She made tea instead. "You know what," she said, "it IS nicer in here now." The jar glowed.

DH
Dov Hale
7 votes · future 1 of 1