The door is stuck again. Warped. Must be hot outside. Already?
I turn the handle and brace for the hot, white light before it beats down on me. The package greets me with a crooked smile.
“Jack,” it says. “I thought I said to hurry.”
“You said get over here now. Why you here?”
“Because you didn’t show. You coming, or what?”
The door is getting heavy, so is my head. Throbbing headache shows for a visit. Nausea escorts him in.
“Kitchen,” I say through gritted teeth and swerve back inside.

To help kick-start some activity around here, I commissioned Samuel to write an original story (more on his stories in another post). Here it is…

A long time ago, an evil bowl of hot sauce ruled a living room, but one day it all changed. It started on a fightful day. A pizza was drinking his friend, Grape Juice. Until the bowl of hot sauce and his army of nachos came charging in their way. The grape juice said, “STOP DRINKING ME AND LETS GET OUT OF HERE!!” But they were too late. Now they were as flat as a pancake. Speaking of pancakes they hired a army of pancakes. Now they held a war called the Great War of Macaroni and Cheese. Three years later, the war still continued. More than 3,000 foods had died. Until a huge shadow came upon the city, “We’re doomed,” said Pizza. It was a huge, giant person!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!! Everybody[food] screamed and the giant hand of the huge person picked up the bowl of hot sauce and licked the bowl clean.

FIN[THEE END][THE END]BLA BLA