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Trail Mix

Amy was bored. Her phone broke yesterday; screen shattered. Nothing but trail mix left in the cupboard. She pulled the large bag off the top shelf, letting it fall into her hands. She sat down at the table and poured the content of the bag into a ceramic bowl. The merry mix made her queasy. Too many unlike things touching each other, like raisins snug against cashews. The thought disgusted her. She began separating raisins, cashews, coconut flakes, mini semisweet chips into small piles. Once satisfied with the new order, she left. Her mom, annoyed by her daughter's handiwork, scoops everything back in the bag.

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25 May 2016