Arthur watched in horror as Sarah followed Miller. Then, like meerkats sensing rain, three more heads popped up from the data entry pool.
"Is that... fig?" Miller’s head rose another three inches. I Hope You Brought Enough for Everyone! (16.12....
Arthur took the smallest, crust-only piece for himself and popped it into his mouth. He then gestured grandly to the five tiny, mangled cubes of bread resting on his desk. "Help yourselves," Arthur said through dry lips. Arthur watched in horror as Sarah followed Miller
Arthur Smedley took his snacks very seriously. In his forty-two years at the Department of Records, he had never once partaken in the communal box of stale donuts in the breakroom. No, Arthur brought his own. "Help yourselves," Arthur said through dry lips
"What's that smell, Arthur?" Miller asked, his nostrils visibly flaring.
Arthur looked at the five of them. He looked down at his single, beautiful sourdough roll. He thought about the three minutes he had spent toasting it to perfection on his cast-iron skillet at 6:00 AM.