Fortune Cookies as a Cry for Help

I’ve been eating my mooshoo and collecting more fortunes that are disturbing and cause me to be concerned about the people in the fortune cookie factory. Let’s send help.

Someone has pulled a double shift all week and needs a break. That conveyor belt of cookies is starting to wear him out.

This was written by someone who is losing their patience and likely exploring their fury-side.

The end is nigh. Don’t bother to repent, just try to eke out a few moments of joy before the world implodes. Maybe you dreamed of being a writer and instead you’re at the fortune cookie factory trying to create meaningful phrases for tiny slips of paper.

A glimmer of hope. If humans can’t be a source of comfort, turn to the written word. Even small written words on bits of paper folded into cookies.

This was clearly written for me. And by whoever was in that factory longing for a more complex medium of expression than a slip of paper shoved into a gummy cookie.