| >> |
02/06/12(Mon)09:43 No.34019625>You've been in a rush, lately, often getting quick meals with friends or just grabbing a bit of fruit before rushing out the door each morning for work.
>Tabasco pony is starting to seem a little sad.
>You ask her why, as you pick a banana from the bunch and slip your shoes on.
>"Oh, nothing." She says.
>You pause a moment, waiting for her to speak again before rushing out the door, telling her to be nice to Tapatio.
>You come home from work and cheer, finally done with your busy season.
>Tapatio is zoning out by the window, but Tabasco isn't to be found in her usual spot atop your counter.
>She's sitting on her shelf, next to the chili powder and jerk seasoning.
>You pick her up, noticing that she's separated, and give her a shake.
>This cheers her up a bit, but not much.
>You tell her you're taking an early night, and head off for bed, waving to her and Tapatio.
>You're taking a bit longer as you get ready for work the next morning.
>You hear a clink from the cupboard.
>"You're... making a lunch today?" She pipes up, peering over the shelf. She's much more perky today.
>Tabasco sees you making your sandwich and frowns. Honey ham, provolone, and wheat.
>You toss the sandwich in your bag and go into the fridge for a yogurt.
>Tossing that in, you go to say goodbye to Tabasco, but she's not on her shelf.
>Bummed out, you leave for work.
>It's lunch time, and you grab the orange from your bag, peeling it and eating a slice.
>Taking your sandwich out of the bag, you see a small imprint in the shape of a pony on one side of the sandwich.
>Looking into your bag, you see Tabasco at the bottom, peeking up at you.
>"I just thought I'd tag along for lunch. You know, since you've been so busy lately. And you seemed lonely.." She looks away sheepishly.
>You ask if she'd like to share your lunch with you, to which she clambers out of the bag and sits on your desk, trying hard to hide the giddy smile on her face. |
