Harold

Harold ate his breakfast in mental quiet. "If I think too loudly," he thought, rather too loudly, eyeing his cornflakes with suspicion, "They'll know I'm a phony."

"For the love of God, Harold, would you stop taking so long?" Harold's wife never understood his plight. He shook his head solemnly, "I never asked God to love me."

"Oh, here we go," she rolled her eyes, "They're cornflakes Harold, flippin' cornflakes! Why don't you just have an apple and be done with it?"

"Don't even talk to me about apples! Those things have gotten undue attention ever since one didn't fall on some dude's head," Harold looked quizzical, "I'll tell you what keeps doctors away: anti-vaxxers, but I wouldn't advise eating them."

Harold's wife left the room mid-sentence, leaving him to the scrutiny of his cornflakes.


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