For the very young, there is an extensive children’s menu, with some items served in a McDonald’s-esque orange plastic sand pail with a shovel on the side.
I go all the way down to First Avenue and turn left, leaving the shoppers and the Seattleites behind, and lo! here’s all humanity hep and weird wandering on the evening sidewalk amazing me outa my eyeballs[…]
Formerly the domain of cooks, undercooks, and scullery maids, it wasn't even a room a householder would lay claim to, much less single out with items of personal interest.
the durable canon of American short fiction
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