I Hope You Brought Enough For Everyone! (16.12.... -

Within ten seconds, the cubicle aisle was empty. Arthur sat alone at his desk, staring at the five lonely, mutilated squares of sourdough. They were ruined, but as he picked up a sticky piece of crust, Arthur smiled. It was a small price to pay for peace.

"Is that... fig?" Miller’s head rose another three inches. I Hope You Brought Enough for Everyone! (16.12....

Within thirty seconds, five people were standing around Arthur’s desk, staring down at the 6-inch pocket of bread. Arthur instinctively pulled the greaseproof paper tighter around the sourdough, clutching it to his chest like a cornered animal. Within ten seconds, the cubicle aisle was empty

Arthur looked at the five of them. He looked down at his single, beautiful sourdough roll. He thought about the three minutes he had spent toasting it to perfection on his cast-iron skillet at 6:00 AM. It was a small price to pay for peace

Arthur took the smallest, crust-only piece for himself and popped it into his mouth. He then gestured grandly to the five tiny, mangled cubes of bread resting on his desk. "Help yourselves," Arthur said through dry lips.

The others chimed in with supportive, hungry laughs. "Yeah, Arthur!" "Pass it around!" "I'll take a corner!"

With surgical precision, Arthur hacked the artisanal roll into six equal, microscopic cubes. The prosciutto shredded. The Camembert oozed out onto the dull grey laminate of his desk. The fig glaze smeared into a sticky purple puddle.