Cake

There was this activity in a writing book I'm reading and it's called "The Story Machine". I had to write five vocationals and five really weird actions, and then trade with my partner and pick one combo. My teacher licked every spoon in the drawer. (Spoon licking must be last scene). The catch: use only one syllable words, except for the words in your prompt.

This was tough, but I definitely suggest giving it a try!

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I hate my job. Why do I have to be a teacher? All day I teach what I love, but I teach brat to brat to brat and I hate it. The one thing on my mind is that damn cake in my fridge. Cake is so good. It sucks less than those damn kids. They talk their mouth off and don’t hear what I have to say. That cake at home is all I have. When I get home, I will eat—eat and eat. Then I will get fat. I will be glad--glad and fat. Teachers get no praise. I hate my life. I love cake. Damn. Now I am out of gas. Pull over. Pump Gas. Pay. No change. Drive. Now I am home. Cake time is near. What the hell? Cake is gone. Spouse ate cake. Spouse ate all of cake. Damn spouse. I run to the drawer. Now I lick every spoon in the drawer. Spoon tastes of cake. Cake is all I have.