How did we get here?
It was the most pointless argument in the world. As if they were children fighting over a toy, Yorktown and a girl were pulling at a bag.
It wasn't a bag of jewels, money, or even anything remotely valuable.
It was a bag of flour.
Oh, but it was the last bag of flour. And they both wanted to make cookies!
As the fight continued, the bag fell from its podium. Sliding back and forth on the floor, the threads holding the bag threatened to snap—and nobody would get to make cookies.
"I touched it first," the girl sneered.
Yorktown scoffed. "No, you didn't. We touched it at the same time."
"Liar! You just want the flour for yourself!"
He gave her a glare. "What's the problem with that? I want to make cookies!"
"So do I!" She pulled harder. "If you don't let go, the bag's gonna break!"
"Says the one who's pulling harder," Yorktown muttered. "Wait. Let's settle this like civilized people." Yorktown signaled the girl to stop pulling. Surprisingly, she obliged.
She paused. "Okay. Give me the bag, then."
"Why?"
"Didn't you say something about civilized people?" The girl glared at him. "Ladies first."
Before the argument could continue, the bag of flour they were fighting over vanished, exploding into thin air. A layer of white dust settled over everything—the girl, Yorktown, and what was left of the space between them.
"This is all your fault."
YOU ARE READING
Testament
FantasyFor a couple long, enduring years, monsters have been relentlessly attacking the city of Bifrost. The first attack came two years ago, a siege of pain and blood, and attacks have been coming regularly since, every two weeks. No one knows where the m...
