Farm Dakota Novels & Stories

With flaring nostrils, he pants excitedly while looking at his sister as if a private alarm had awakened him from upstairs—alerting him of the presence of the recently delivered food while he sits patiently by for his portion. “Every single time,” Dakota snorts, “-I swear your life revolves around food and sleeping. It’s a good job I knew this would happen. I got you some of the chicken that you like, is that alright?” she asks while reaching into the plastic bag; pulling out a polystyrene carton before opening it up in front of him to allow the puff of trapped steam to pour out.