Corie Universe Feeder (Book One)

One Green Fermented Chapter  

A Pickle Sandwich

the Pickle Sandwich

one Pickle Sandwich

THE PICKLE SANDWICH!

Whichever you choose,

all I know is that it started with a/one/the/THE Pickle Sandwich.

And a fish.

Two: The Beginning(s)

Corie: tall, thin, scruffy, female, student, blondish, smart, creative, outspoken, trouble-finding, precocious (whatever THAT means), eager, mature, silly, immature, messy-roomed, imaginative, animal-loving girl.

Corie lives in a suburb of a big city in the Northeast. Want to know which city? Well, I can’t tell you that.

The house she lives in:

*is painted white;

*has many rooms including, two and a half bathrooms (Corie still wonders where the other half went);

*has a big, big, big, huge front yard;

*has an even bigger, bigger, bigger, more huge back yard;

*is old;

*contains two irritating older but not more mature brothers;

*has the neatest boy-you-can-get-messy-and-in-big-trouble-after-playing-in-it-and-going-into-the-house-and-lying-upside-down-all-muddy-on-your-bed-to-read-a-book-even-though-reading-is-good-for-you stream next to it;

*has plenty of food;

*contains one dog (although, it is often asked, “Why we can’t have fifteen dogs? That’s silly. I’ll take care of them.”);

*is happy;

*looks good in winter;

*has great snakes in the yard, but that’s another story;

*has a fox who visits the yard;

*is also visited by white-tailed deer, as well as one weird deer with no tail and a goofy limp who eats mushrooms and doesn’t run away when you go outside and look at him;

*and contains a mother and a father.

That snake story is pretty interesting, and I wish I could tell you more about the trouble that whole thing caused but I can’t right now.

Anyhow, anyhoo, anywhatever...

Whenever I get off track and try to tell you something else or go off and tell another story—like the time Smelly Timmy, too young to sled, went down the “world’s most incredible slippery, slidey, sled run in Corie’s back yard that only costs a quarter to use all day” and broke his wrist and lost a tooth, and Corie got mad because she never got her quarter but got in more trouble than he did, even though he welched—whenever I get off track like that and I remember what I was supposed to be doing, I end up saying, “Anyhow, or anyhoo,  or anywhatever,” and then try to get back to the story.

I think.

Anysomething.

It’s a nice house in a nice neighborhood with nice parents and irritating brothers and Corie.

And a pickle and a fish.

Two: The Beginning(s) Some More

The pickle.

Listen. Dad, who is not so, so bad as dads go, actually likes pickles. He was home making late lunch, or maybe early dinner, and Corie was Corie-ing around, not doing anything really, but kind of doing it wrong anyway. Dad was making lunch/dinner, and Corie said for the ten-thousandth time, “What’s to eat?”