Mad Max Our Daily Bread Novels & Stories

he replied. “Oh okay that’s nice” Dax said and Kade nodded, “it’s been long since I saw her and I’m happy to see her again” he added and Dax chuckled. The maid served us breakfast, oats and I liked mine with bread same with Kade. “Why are you eating it with bread” Dax asked, “I like it like that” I replied abd he nodded adding, “ mm”. Dax took a slice of bread and tried it, “it’s not bad” he said and I nodded. We ate a hearty breakfast and i and Kade headed to the hospital.

It wasn't long before Mom replied to my message, "Sweetheart, are you in a lot of pain? I'm so sorry to hear that. I'm sure this is because you've been disobedient and haven't been eating properly. Otherwise, why would you be having cramps?" I had no idea how to refute her words. Every day, I was only able to earn roughly ten dollars or so by checking in with her. However, after deducting ten dollars for my monthly phone bill and the other living expenses, I only had enough left to eat oatmeal or dinner rolls each day. At that moment, Mom called me. When I accepted the call, her gentle voice flowed over the line, "Sweetheart, I'm very mad that you refused to listen to me. I know you're feeli

“What are you doing?” “Energy,” he said, offering her the bag. She took it, skeptical. “You think Cool Ranch Doritos will fix the power grid?” “No,” he said. “But I think it’ll make you 4% less likely to murder someone today.” Brenda smirked. “You always know just how to disappoint me.” But she took the chips anyway. They walked slowly toward the breakroom, crunching in silence. Then Marcus asked, “You good?” Brenda shrugged. “Fine. Minor tech apocalypse. Totally normal day.”

They are in so much trouble. Dad Zarek had gone all blank by this time and it seemed he had got stoned (which Alpha Stone will literally do to him. Haha. Notice the play of words with ‘Stone’ ? :p) and Dad Lucan was shaking like a writhing dry leaf. It seemed like the two of them had seen a ghost but I guess they must be seeing their death instead. Mom won’t leave them alive when she finds out her food has been spiked by them and believe me when I say this but she always knows who did what.

Maxwell said, showing a small-sized shirt that read: [I Survived the Max Attack! “Oh my god!” Dawn cracked up. The other shirts read: For Maxwell: [Captain D] For Dawn: [His Favorite Port] “I have extra-large condoms,” Maxwell added, pulling out a box. “With a message from Mom?” From where Dawn was seated, she could read the message. It said: [Go big or go home, Max. Proud of you! Love, Mom] “Fuck,” he shook his head. “There’s a custom pill organizer with—” Maxwell frowned, opening the pill box. “Viagra! Goddammit, Mom! I don’t need this stuff!”

I lied, my stomach choosing that moment to growl like a betrayed animal. "Your stomach disagrees." Madison pulled out a chair. "Sit. Eat. We have a long day ahead." I sat because arguing would take more energy than cooperation. “Who starts their day with quinoa?” I muttered under my breath, poking the fork into the salad like it might bite back. Madison remained unfazed. “You forgot holy water,” I grumbled. "Haha," She said dryly. "Very funny." The first bite of eggs hit my tongue and I nearly moaned. When was the last time food actually tasted like something?

I sighed with frustration over the mental battle that was taking place inside of me as I got Megan a large glass of water to wash down her pain medication and fetched two beers for Max and me. “Wouldn’t coffee be more in order?” Megan asked with surprise. “Brandy would work best, but Angela made light of it the other night and I haven’t replenished it,” I said as I took the cap off of my bottle of beer and guzzled it down. “What day is it?” “It’s about three am on a Saturday morning,” Max replied.

"Mad, you don't have to." "Let it out; it's okay," Mad says, caressing my back. He doesn't know how soothing it is to have someone I know sincerely cared about me. My entire life; I only know mom and Max, and now Maddox seems to really care. I wipe my thoughts away; convincing myself not to linger on something impossible in my world. Maddox and I are two worlds apart. Max fell asleep in my arms before we left him to check on Dr. Mendoza for Max's treatment response. His statement is a weight on my shoulders. According to him, Max's condition is getting really worse. I don't want to listen to him anymore.

By day three, Maya has developed a close personal relationship with the inventory spreadsheet in her head. It has columns. It has projections. It has the grim emotional energy of a wedding seating plan prepared during a hostage situation. “Breakfast,” she says, placing two protein bars on the folding table like she’s serving tiny beige steaks. Dex looks at his. “Half?” “Half.” “It’s breakfast.” “It’s apocalypse breakfast. Very exclusive. Terrible reviews.” He picks it up, frowning. “I’m hungry.”

It hung off me like a second skin, soft and smelling unmistakably like him. The kitchen was flooded with light. The back door had been left slightly open, letting in a breeze that carried the distant sound of gulls crying. Curtains danced lazily in the wind. Max stood barefoot in front of the fridge, staring at its contents like they were a riddle. “We have eggs. Two peppers. Tomatoes. And a loaf of bread.” I stood at the sink, sipping water from a mug. “So we’ll be making bread and eggs.” He turned to me with an overly dramatic frown. “Are you mocking me?”