Cheeeeeseburger

Cheeseburger is an absolutely delicious matter that digests absolutely well in my stomach. Its marvelous taste of the crusty bread and the lush lettuce coupled with the mouth-watering mozzarella cheese and fresh beef have never turned dull in my life. But since the acute health-related impact (such as obesity), cheeseburgers have been levied by the government for the sake of the citizen’s welfare, especially children, and the magical food have been largely confined to having merely one layer of beef. I do know that I am in Sasha’s, my favorite fast-food restaurant, to complete my mission of obtaining a secret message sent by my friend, but I cannot completely remove the temptation of ordering the magical food: a cheeseburger.

Sitting at a red table, I stare at the fat cook whose apron is barely putting his belly together. The cook taps a rhythm on the casher which I interpret it as a signal for me to get the secret message from him. Kelly told me to get the message from the cook. I walk straight through a crowd of table and the few laughers of fellow consumers as normally as I can, meaning that the arms sway in a perfectly smooth motion while the feet do in a contrary motion. After a glimpse of mundane grin, the cook slides out a yellow plate containing ketchup, French fries, a mysterious paper, and, most importantly, the magical food. I should have stopped myself from ordering food, as I am in a mission, but I threw my sense of self-control away into the misty clouds of today.

After gulping the entirety of the cheeseburger in 5 bites, I sedately open the mysterious letter. One by one, the letter reveals what I expected as the secret message – which read:
“1 + 1 sale!...”, an advertisement. I immediately close the letter, having known that I was in trouble. That mysterious paper is not the secret message. I recall Kelly moving her red lips and saying: “I will tell the cook to hide it in the first thing that you order in the restaurant.” No, it is not a love letter from Kelly. She likes someone else. No, it is not about Whitehead, a bully in our school. Maybe, it could be a joke. Yes, it is a joke.

Hence, around the blue, misty coulds on the summit of the mountain at my apartment stands Kelly who is wearing a scarf in the golden color of autumn. She tilts her head and expects some new information from me. Neurons flicks some electrons in my brain, but I cannot not make up anything.

“So… Anything new?” says Kelly.

I turn my gaze back to Kelly.

“Umm… Sorry, I think I accidentally ate the letter within the food,” say I.

Kelly laughs so hard that she bumps her head at a pine tree. I place my hands on her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“That letter was a coupon for you to order a cheeseburger,” replied Kelly, totally faking.

I return to my bedroom. Dark circles form around my eyes. I like Kelly. Was the secret letter really just a coupon? I need to find out.

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