I remember American public school "breakfast for lunch". The french toast sticks were always burnt to a crisp and the sausages looked like severed zombie fingers. So many fond memories of kids bouncing green sausage on the floor.
In 8th grade, my lunch table did secret santa. This one girl was grounded and her mom wouldn't let her buy anything. She gave me a bag of garlic powder in an empty tissue box.
I had been working front register. It was my first Black Friday rodeo and I was a frightened little fish. My anxiety was consuming me over getting attacked by angry customers. Of course the store was chaotic, but a coworker and I had heard an ear splitting scream. Instantly, a woman…Â
My name is Isabel. She spelt my name "Isobella" and her handwriting made it look as if she had written "15083113" I thought she had written her phone number.
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