Who Moved My Cheese Novels & Stories

Add a pair of dark jogging pants, running shoes, and a white cord that extended from either ear to his jacket’s right pocket into the mix, and it seemed pretty obvious I’d interrupted him mid-exercise. He tugged one side of his earphones out to repeat, “Your cheese.” Then he extended his other hand from the darkness toward me, which contained my sealed package of Gran’s apology cheese in his palm. “Oh.” Well, that was embarrassing. I’d never spilled the cheese in front of anyone before. It was better than cutting it, though, I suppose. “Sorry.” I rushed to my feet and reached for it, but he pulled his hand back just as I did, making me miss.

"Everything is better with cheese." The next hour I spent pacing in front of the wall while taking notes, eating, and drinking the red wine I bought earlier. My big black blook was open on the bed, post it everywhere and I was feeling giddy when I took the last bite of my fries, the burger was long gone since it was too good with too much cheese. I did make a mental note to go back to the small restaurant tomorrow for the same menu. I'd probably bought three or five and shove them in the fridge, another mental note was to get up early in the morning for my run, definitely need to burn off the cheeseburger, and while doing so venturing around the neighborhood forest and neighbors. When sleepi

“Or you'll get hangry.” Her reference to this morning made me smile and I took the cheese. Despite knowing that it was probably the best, most expensive cheese on the whole island, it was tasteless to me. I chewed automatically, more to make Charlotte happy than because I was hungry. The door at the end of the hallway swung open and I jumped to my feet, nearly spilling my cup of tea. I set it on the tray, spilling most of it, before hurrying to talk with Dr. Verner.

She had hoped that we could have our meal in the style of a picnic in the backyard, but it began to rain shortly after I arrived, so we ended up having our meal in the living room rather than the backyard. After my workout, my appetite was over the roof, and I tore through everything she put in front of me while she explained me the names of the various cheeses and fruits. It would appear that her mother hosted a few wine and cheese parties, and her daughter had picked up a lot of information about cheese as a result. It was simply incredible. Well, with the exception of the brie. That piece of filth was revolting. To some extent, it made me think of feet.

As the wedding date steadily approached, Mason and I grew closer with each passing day. One evening, instead of sending his chauffeur, he picked me up himself and drove us up the mountains until we reached the summit. Pointing at the starry sky, he asked, "Do you like it?" I found the gesture amusing and teased, "Is the starry sky your gift?" He lowered his eyes, shook his head slightly, and pressed a finger to his lips. I instinctively fell silent.

He left my stomach twisting. Finally, his gaze left me and I watched as he cut into the fish and took a bite, a hum of appreciation escaping his lips. Meanwhile, I hesitated to try my own meal, held back by my fear of the cheese on my plate. Edmond, as if sensing my unease, turned to me and asked, “You don't like cheese?” “Well, it's not that I don't like it," I started, my voice trailing off as I struggled to find the right words. "I'm just hesitant about eating that kind of...stuff.”

My mood easily lightened up because of its calm and clear ambiance. "Ahh, the sky is so calming here. Thank you for bringing me here for the second time." I could get used to this. I really like the clouds in the sky and the sky's color. I picked up a piece of cheese and ate it. Not that I'm a mouse, but it's my favorite snack here. I love cheese. All kinds of cheese will do. "Why don't you come here often when it's your garden?" I heaved a sigh. It's been too long since I shared my traumatizing experience here. I guess it's time for someone to know the story behind it.

The smell of grease and cheese drifts through my apartment. There's one piece of double cheese pepperoni pizza left and I plan to make it mine. I move my work papers to the other side of the sofa for safety and in slow movements, to not draw attention, reach for the box placed on my thick coffee table. Finn beats me there and in one quick move grabs the last piece. I side eye him and laugh at his smug expression. He's so proud of his accomplishment.

– Malcolm says softly to Mia – “Let's just move on and forget it all. I don't want you to worry like that." “If I don't eat, I will lose it” – Mia says calmly and continues to eat dinner as if nothing happened. Malcolm sees the girl's docile gesture and nods and smiles. "Very good!" – The man compliments the girl, although he smiles, his face still keeps a cold expression that is hard to change. As the saying goes: "A leopard can't change his spots" “How do you like this crab with cheese sauce?” "Very delicious! I have never eaten cheese before.”

At four I go to the kitchen. I've prepared one thing and one thing only, which is within my actual capability. A cheese board assembled with the specific things she likes, the aged manchego, the honeycomb, the marcona almonds, the fig jam Mrs. Kowalski taught me to find at the right deli. Simple and exactly right. I bring it to the coffee table. She looks at it for a moment. Then at me. "You remembered everything," she says. "I paid attention." She reaches for the manchego first, which I knew she would, and I open the bottle of wine I've had sitting since Tuesday and pour two glasses.