The Unreasonable Geometry of Breakfast Sausage
Connie peers into the kitchen window. She sees Mary gesturing wildly. George Sr. laughing. Georgie stealing sausage off Missy’s plate.
That is a false dichotomy. My third choice is to establish a new sausage-based economic model. I propose we grade each link on a scale of one to ten for char, curvature, and structural integrity. Then, we redistribute based on merit.
I cannot. The second sausage from the left has a suspiciously high melanin content. It’s burnt. It will ruin the entire mouthfeel ecosystem of my palate for the first two hours of school. I will be unable to concentrate on the periodic table if my tongue is registering notes of carbonized carbon.
(To himself) Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight. The lack of milk introduces a desirable auditory crunch feedback loop. The sausages can keep their chaos.
There was a sausage schism. I chose neutrality.
Don’t be absurd. I don’t have a sufficient dowry of ketchup packets.