Healthiest Subway Sandwich Novels & Stories

"I'll toast some bread and fry an egg for you." "Sounds good." Seth nodded. In just a few minutes, she produced a sandwich piled high with a fried egg, ham, tomato slices, lettuce, pickles, and a generous helping of cheese. It was twice as substantial as anything Seth'd find in a convenience store. He stared at the "monster" sandwich on the plate for a long moment, not making a move. Maisie arched an eyebrow. "Is there anything in there you don't eat? Just pick it out."

After all, I was only going across the street to get myself something to eat. I was seeing less of my mother lately, and I was certain was she dating a chef from Evan's mansion. I stepped out in the busy street. The sun was just leaving the sky, being chased by a large dark rain cloud. My legs carried me over to a small Subway outlet. I was in the mood for a freshly prepared sandwich with lots of dressing. I pushed through the door and joined a short line, waiting for my turn. "What would you like to have?" the server asked.

"Urgh. As expected, Cheese sandwich is the best" "Are you kidding? It's no different from pizza. Onion ranch is the best sandwich out there" "It tastes like it doesn't want to be in your mouth" "It's just sour. That's a nice taste" *'The little things matter. The little things are what keep us from giving up too soon.* *His childish expressions, his affectionate gaze and his gentle touch filled with love.* *The way he chuckles, the glint in his eyes when he eats something tasty, the way he steals glances at me every second…*

My poison! The sandwich my secretary brought in a while ago from John rests on my work table staring at me. My stomach was already filled with the aroma. Unwrapping it from the serving pape, I nimble at it before gracefully shoving it in my mouth. The sandwich was usual, spicy chicken with cream cheese on a bed of lettuce. I've always loved this sandwich, and the only other one I love is peanut butter, one of the childish love that I can never get over.

I want to protest, but right now, I don’t have a choice. *** *** 6: 30 PM My loose tank top falls around the waistline of my baggy jeans. This is unlike my fashion style, not because I’m with my mum, but because I feel the need to guard myself. We’re standing on the crowded subway, impatiently waiting for the train. The loud horn coming from a distance alerts the people on the subway. They leave their seats and form a queue. Once it halts in front of us, people start trooping out.