Yue Yangyang spent half the night worrying about the food delivery software. The wonton soup downstairs is steaming, the fried chicken at the end of the alley is dripping with oil, and even the croissants from the bakery next door seem to be waving.
"How about buying them all?" She rubbed her belly and thought. When she reached the third store with her fingertips, her eyelids began to sink.
I'm still counting in my dream: I'll have wontons for breakfast tomorrow, fried chicken for lunch, um… bread is just right as a snack.
