(no subject)
My mother, father, sister and I approach a strip mall with futuristic-looking buildings and sharp-angled signs. Nevermind, it's just a normal strip mall.
One of the stores has a long table with what looks like birthday decorations. The inside seems about 30 yards from the entrance to the back where a register is. The store looks as though it is owned and operated privately.
We enter the store but it is a franchised establishment, possibly run by the corporation which it belongs to, and approach a gentleman wearing a chef's apron and hat. He tells us his steaks have one hundred and forty horsepower. "That sounds reasonable. He sure does know what he's talking about," I think to myself.
We sit down at the table and my father starts rambling on about something I'm not paying attention to. My mother is sitting across from my father, which is weird, because they're divorced. My father is still talking about something to no one in particular.
I'm not sure where my sister is, but I end up on the floor, clutching my stomach in hunger. No one notices but my mother, who cuts off chunks of my father's steak and hands them down to me. I sit up slightly and chew on the cooked flesh. The meat is satisfying, but I wish I had a whole steak.
There is a table covered in a white tablecloth, with dozens of desserts and pastries adorning the surface. Also bread.
One of the stores has a long table with what looks like birthday decorations. The inside seems about 30 yards from the entrance to the back where a register is. The store looks as though it is owned and operated privately.
We enter the store but it is a franchised establishment, possibly run by the corporation which it belongs to, and approach a gentleman wearing a chef's apron and hat. He tells us his steaks have one hundred and forty horsepower. "That sounds reasonable. He sure does know what he's talking about," I think to myself.
We sit down at the table and my father starts rambling on about something I'm not paying attention to. My mother is sitting across from my father, which is weird, because they're divorced. My father is still talking about something to no one in particular.
I'm not sure where my sister is, but I end up on the floor, clutching my stomach in hunger. No one notices but my mother, who cuts off chunks of my father's steak and hands them down to me. I sit up slightly and chew on the cooked flesh. The meat is satisfying, but I wish I had a whole steak.
There is a table covered in a white tablecloth, with dozens of desserts and pastries adorning the surface. Also bread.