Mac n' Cheese

The man went into the house and cooked himself some macaroni. But the macaroni contained something he would never imagine.

Phil Satcher was a lonely man. He had no friends, family, or even acquaintances. His house was small, three bedrooms, and a gift from his deceased grandparents. Life was pretty boring for Phil. At work, he sat in his bland cubicle with piles of loose papers strewn across his desk. Conversations were brief and not amusing. One thing though, his boss liked him.

“Phil, you’re here earlier than usual!” Mr. Don Michaels, the CEO of Craft Store, storms down the gray carpeted floor, pass decorated cubicles, to Phil. He pushes his chair back, standing slowly.

“Yes, I wanted to finish the proposal as soon as possible,” he says in monotone. Mr. Michael nods, placing a finger on his chin.

“Phil, you are a hard worker, you know that? You come in, get your job done, and make this company richer! I want to promote you to Assistant Director.” Mr. Michael smiles very wide, baring yellowed teeth. Phil is shocked, the whites of his eyes showing prominently.

“Wow, this is an honor,” Phil mutters. Going to the grocery store after work, Phil develops a pep in his step. He smiles at the employees walking around, saying hi to fellow customers. He picks up a couple boxes of macaroni, a bottle of red wine, and two Congrats balloons.  Home is no longer a bore, to Phil. He cooks up some Mac n’ Cheese, opens the red wine, and dines by himself. A sliver of cheese dribbles down his chin, the hot deliciousness melting his heart and mind.


Phyllis Sather was a lively woman. She had so many friends and family, and a couple acquaintances. Her house was large, with six bedrooms, a lease put in by Uncle Mark. Life was pretty exciting for Phyllis. At work, she sat in her picture filled office, with a neat stack of folders on her desk. Conversations were long and amusing. One thing though, her boss hated her.

“Phyllis, you’re late again!” Ms. Cami Maguire, CEO of Hardware Heaven, strolls down the auburn carpeted floor, pass bland cubicles, to Phyllis. She pushes her chair back, standing hastily.

“Ugh! The proposal is not due until four,” she says loudly. Ms. Maguire shakes her head, placing her hands on her hips.

“Phyllis, you are a negligent worker, you know that? You come in, sit around, and make this company poorer! I want you out of here, you’re fired!” Ms. Maguire exclaims, baring her small white teeth. Phyllis saw this coming a mile away, a sigh escaping.

​“I hate you too,” she murmurs as Ms. Maguire exits. Going to the grocery store after work, Phyllis develops a hitch to her gait. She frowns at the employees sulking around, saying mean things under her breath to fellow customers. She picks up a box of macaroni, two bottles of red wine, and a feel better balloon. Home is no longer fun to Phyllis, even with her sister Sarah, coming over. She cooks a box of Mac n’ cheese, opens both bottles, and dines with her. A drool of cheese slips down her chin, the lukewarm stickiness crushing her heart and mind.