The fresh fortune cookie, sheathed under the others in the white paper bag, was a rarity among cookies. Fortune cookies' true value lie in their portends, not the cookie part. Ceniza opened hers up, as usual halfway through her meal.
The fortune was missing. She hesitated to eat the cookie portion, fearing a bad omen, a death wish in a biscuit. No, she was just being superstitious. She ate another one, fortune reading, awkwardly, “You will soon be reminded of fond memories.” No fear, then: the missing slip could be a good, welcome sign. She decided to gobble them both.
Matty. You changed the story.
ReplyDeleteOne cardinal rule of many writers is it's not the writing, it's the rewrite. I was wondering if anyone would notice. I was thinking about doing one drabble, and showing its revisions. That is one bad writing habit I have gotten into, is not allowing my mental space for revising. /sigh
ReplyDeleteBut - you are so clever! Makes me happy someone is paying attention! :)
Of course I am! /points to her eyes like a hawk
ReplyDeleteWait, that was to paying attention, not about being clever.
ReplyDeleteAnd you are clever!
ReplyDelete