The Missing Link

The other day, I was handling several chores simultaneously. One of them involved opening a sealed carton of meatless sausage for my breakfast. I fumbled the package, but managed to place two of the links on a plate and proceed.

When my wife arrived home that evening, Morty the Cat and I met her in the kitchen.

Donna stopped in her tracks, kneeling down to peek at the floorboard underneath a cabinet, beyond my line of sight. Without saying a word, she stood up. There was a dark brown sausage link pinched daintily between the tips of her index finger and thumb. The look on her face was quizzical and priceless, as she held out the aged, largely unrecognizable item for us to see and comment.

"Oh," I chuckled, "somebody dropped one." I grabbed Morty and disappeared.
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