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Thursday, January 30, 2014

Stir The Coffee

Stir The Coffee Through the steam of my coffee I could see a miniature set of shiny scarlet shoes swinging back and forth underneath the interpret at the diner. A little girl had been sitting atop the blood-red stool since I had arrived, just sitting remark the cook flip pancakes alone morning long with a mature sense of fascination. Up and down, and up and down, all oer and over again, the batter always formed into delicious full-blooded creations, or so with blueberries, some with chocolate, some just naked and simple. The cook sported a wonderful apron that looked like it had been approximately forever, cooked a one million million pancakes, and still lived to enjoin its tale of the aneles and toppings and syrups it had seen in its day. The old existences red shirt could be seen through the char holes in the apron, as if they were war wounds. The cook didnt depend to mind the commove of the stove, or stir at all when the burning oil from the pan spat at h is flesh. He was caked in a film of grease, butter and batter, and only occ...If you requisite to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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