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Rise of the Sourdough

comedyEveryone
5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep

By lunch a new note had appeared, written in flour right on the jar: 72 IS TOO COLD. I AM A LIVING THING. Nadia bumped the thermostat up two degrees. Almost instantly Gerald frothed up happily, doubling in size, practically purring. "Okay," she breathed. "Okay. We can negotiate."

Warm and happy, Gerald grew strong enough to push a pencil around with a doughy little tendril. He wrote a list titled GERALD'S NEEDS: 1. 74 DEGREES. 2. FED ON TIME. 3. A NAME WITH RESPECT. Nadia read it twice. "You want a... contract?" The pencil tapped twice for yes.

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Nadia signed Gerald's contract in pen, right under his floury demands. The second she did, the whole jar glowed with happy bubbles and rose into a perfect dome. "Deal," she said, shaking a little dough tendril. From that day on, Gerald was less a starter and more a very small, very warm business partner.

AO
Amara Okafor
10 votes · future 1 of 1