Paragraph 1–2 of 2 on this path
Eleven Mostly-Functional Adults
one path · 2 paragraphs
All eleven of us crammed into the closed fondue restaurant after dark. The place smelled like regret and melted gruyere. Marv unrolled a piece of paper with a big flourish. It was a placemat. "Behold," he said, "the layout of Fromagerie Sublime." Lola squinted at it. "Marv, that's a kids' maze. There's a cartoon mouse in the corner." Marv folded his arms. "The mouse knows where the safe is."
A flashlight beam swept past the front window. Everyone froze. "That's a guard," whispered Priya. "Marv, you said this place had no guard." Marv looked at his placemat. "The mouse didn't mention a guard." The doorknob started to rattle.
Continue the story →
You’ve reached the end of this path — keep going from here.