47 relatives, immediate or otherwise
1 cake (number of layers may vary)
1 pair of shoes
1 pair of cold feet
1 chance, not taken
Combine ingredients, chill to serve.
Anna likes socks, notebooks, tea, and microfiction. She lives in Germany.
“How is your new job?” A crumb escapes, falling.
“I am thankful to have one.” Careful, collected, but unable to avoid my family’s stream of questions. I reflect, the way my bargain-bin cassette instructed.
A miniature rake scrapes across the artificial garden on my desk. A grain of sand escapes.
Raphael Bastek is a Polish-American office worker. He lives with his beloved cat, Yuna.
He stood amid chaos, tumult, and noise, hearing nothing.
A voice passed through his mind. “Speak your wish, and your hearing can be restored to you.”
He looked around him, at the lights, movement, and stone-eyed faces. “Do not restore my hearing,” he said. “Please take my sight, as well.”
This story is based on a title suggested by @PanzerVaughn.
“I never expected to broadcast from a place like this! I’m standing amid chaos, and I can’t help but wonder if we, as a nation, have made a mistake in creating this Ministry of Wordplay.
“I’ve been dodging portmanteaus and malapropisms all afternoon! It’s complete pundemonium in here!”