Novel Pizza Chicago Novels & Stories

Aunt Janet made delicious homemade pizza, but Leesa had insisted she did not want anyone going to extra trouble tonight and had asked to have pizza delivered from Giovanni’s instead, her favorite pizza place. Judy placed a Hawaiian style pizza in the center of the table, directly in front of Leesa. Leesa licked her lips. Giovanni’s always used plenty of pineapple and ham on their pizza. Aunt Janet placed the other pie—this one topped with the works—farther down the table. “Dig in,” Judy said. Everyone grabbed a slice and began to eat. Max stayed in the corner of the room, happily gnawing on a big steak bone Janet had picked up at the butcher shop on the way here.

Gianna gave me a pen and a small paper. “Go to the club; I’m sure you’d see someone to fuck.” With a small laugh, I exited the house; I wore cargo pants and a blue crop top. Pizza has always been my go-to food for lack of inspiration; just a few slices, and I’d be fine. The pizza shop was filled up, just as every other time I’ve passed this place. I opened the transparent door and went to an empty two-seater chair; a waitress immediately sighted me and rushed to my table.

It started as a curiosity, a dusty antique I picked up at a garage sale for twenty bucks. It was a tall, ornate thing with silver filigree that seemed to catch the light even in the dimmest corners of my apartment. The first time the words appeared—etched into the condensation after my morning shower—I thought it was a prank. “Don’t eat pizza.” I stared at the glass, confused. I had planned to order my usual pepperoni from the place three blocks down. I decided to skip it, opting for a bowl of cereal instead. Two hours later, a gas leak triggered a massive explosion, leveling the pizzeria and injuring a dozen people.

“Are you happy?” he asked. “Here you go!” The waitress slid a hot plate onto the table and placed the pizza on top. “Would you like another round?” she asked, eyeing our empty glasses. Logan held his up. “Please.” I nodded as I forced a smile. “Me, too.” Then, the delicious smell of rich Italian sauce wafted toward me. “It looks delicious!” “I told you,” he said as he slid a slice of pizza onto a plate and handed it to me. “The best pizza in New York!”

Eden felt that it was wrong to cut past the line, but she didn’t care because she wanted to eat that pizza. Gino Sorbillo, the Milan outpost of one of Naples’ best pizzerias, was a stone’s throw from the Duomo. It had the feel of a family-run pizza parlor, although, one that’s incredibly efficient and operates with all the latest technology. There were around a dozen pizzas on the menu, and all of them are crafted with carefully chosen ingredients.

I asked as I wiggled my eyebrows at her. She chuckled but nodded in agreement. “Yes, let’s.” You all can come back in, I would like to be in our new place tonight please. I linked the workers. Soon enough our soon to be former room became a bussling spot as boxes were packed, folded and taped. There seemed to be a train of workers as box after box was passed down the lines. After a while I could tell that everyone was getting hungry so I ordered pizzas to be delivered. I ordered 6 large pepperoni, 2 carnivor, 3 cheese, and 1 cheese/mushrooms, and black olives for Zandra. She pulled me aside to make that odd request. At first I thought she was joking but soon realized that she was being serio