- Piso Mojado
-
|
They had chains which they fastened about the little cheesecakes. As the wheel turned, a cheesecake was suddenly jerked off its platter and the cakes we processed. At the same instant the ear was assailed by a most terrifying shriek. The shriek was followed by another, louder and yet more agonizing--for once a cheesecake started upon that journey, it never came back. And meantime another was swung up, and then another, and another, until there was a double line of them, each dangling by their dainty little wrappers and jiggling a frenzy--and squealing.
It was too much for some of the customers--the men would look at each other, laughing nervously, and the women would stand with hands clenched, and the blood rushing to their faces, and the tears starting in their eyes. Meantime, heedless of all these things, the pastry chefs were going about their work. Neither squeals of cheesecakes nor tears of customers made any difference to them; one by one they grabbed a cheesecake, and one by one with a swift stroke they wrapped them in shrink wrap and carried them out the factory floor, into the display case. Now and then a customer wept, to be sure; but this cheesecake factory ran on, customers or no customers. It was like some horrible crime committed in a dungeon, all unseen and unheeded, buried out of sight and of memory.
|
#
¿
Jul 1, 2016 09:34
|
|
- Adbot
-
ADBOT LOVES YOU
|
|
|
#
¿
May 14, 2024 22:23
|
|
#
¿
Jul 1, 2016 09:34
