This morning I chased the moon. Looked out the window as I brushed my teeth and saw the most amazing setting moon, so I put on (yesterday's) clothes and ran. Ran right out the door to chase the moon... #moon#goodmorning#Boxingday#smallstories
Anticipation can, of course, be for good reasons or bad or a specially blended cocktail of the worst of both. Take five minutes every so often today to tell yourself you are doing the best you can, and to tell the voices in your head that claim otherwise to fuck off.
Charles had already taken 20 minutes to make Rita’s footlong Black Forest Ham sandwich, but he didn’t care. This was what being an artisan was all about. Not only did he create what looked to be an actual black forest out of burnt whole wheat, but he created small pickle people in the forest, contemplating their existence in a world of ash.
“I just want to eat,” pleaded Rita.
“Oh, you’ll eat,” said Charles. “You’ll feast on disillusionment and ennui.” Charles’ eyes lit up with anticipation.
“Is that a kind of mayo? I said no mayo.” Rita was starting to think she should have gone to Jersey Mike’s instead.
In the end, Charles served up a dish that looked like a Tim Burton nightmare. There was a beauty to the bizarre desolation, but it was not easy to put it in your mouth.
“Pass,” said Rita, who paid for three bags of chips and hurried back to work.
Charles, heartbroken that his creation was abandoned, started to wonder, Had his years at Subway University been for naught? Was he the Titan Turkey? He realized his emptiness was reflected in his own creation, and was just as hard to swallow. It was the last time he wielded a mustard spreader.