A Short Story in One Page

    "You chose the cereal,” announced my mom. “Now eat it.”
    I stared at it – a lump of green sludge that looked like someone had tossed a handful of grass into a bowl of milk. The only reason I picked the cereal was because there were coupons on the box for a free movie. Now they sat there and mocked me.
    I really wanted those coupons. I wanted to see the new sci fi extravaganza about aliens blowing up the universe. My mom said there ?were more constructive ways to spend an evening, and that we couldn’t afford full priced movies besides. She said I could either wait until it came to the discount theatre or pay for it myself.
     I really wanted those coupons.
     I did NOT, though, want them enough to eat the green sludge. I nudged it with my spoon and I swear it moved, shifting out of the way. ?“Mom,” I called, “I think this cereal is alive.”
     “Just eat it, Jason!”
     I checked out the movie coupons. They were on the back of the box, right up at the top. I wouldn’t even have to remove the green sludge packet to get them.
     Moving quietly so my mom wouldn’t hear me, I tiptoed into the kitchen and eased a drawer open, rummaging around until I found the scissors. Then I crept back to the table, looking left and right in case my mom pulled a superspy and appeared out of nowhere. She does that.
     A grin spread across my face. No Mom. Those tickets were mine! Bye bye, green sludge – hello, space aliens.
     I tipped the box sideways and slid the scissors against the panel. Just as I went to make the first cut, the box skittered across the table. I couldn’t believe it. Maybe the green sludge cereal WAS alive, and it was trying to thwart me.
     But then I noticed that the box was attached to a hand, and the hand was attached to an arm, and the arm was attached to my mom. And she did NOT look happy. “You want the coupons, you eat the cereal, Jason.”
     She took the box with her when she left. I sat back down at the table, poked the green sludge – by now it had absorbed all the milk and puffed up to twice its original size – and worked my spoon into the mess. Holding my breath, I shovelled the gunk into my mouth and gulped it down as fast as I could, chasing it with orange juice, until the bowl was empty.
     My stomach rumbled. One bowl down. Twenty more to go.