A Sunday short story

A Sunday short story, composed from BY's Facebook post and comments. (commenters' names changed to initials)

A sad thing to encounter at the used bookstore: Momofuku (the cookbook) w/the following inscription: "To Tobias. And to the promise that forever the next noodle will be the best noodle. With love, Julie, Dec 2010." In gold lettering.

R.J. L. I hope you bought it. I would have.

M.L. Wow, that is super depressing.

K.Z. Maybe he had the best noodle and didn't need the cookbook anymore. Or maybe Julie's just a psycho.

L.V.S.C. So did you buy it?

P.W. Tobias is clearly a real jerk. Momofuku book is a real gift, as is the endearing Julie. RRrrrrrr.

D.M. This is even sadder than "For sale - baby shoes. Never worn."

E.C. this is the start of a great short story.

J.F. December 2010? Good god, man. You can practically feel the breeze. I like to think that Julie bought the book, had it embossed, and then had second thoughts about Tobias and decided he was not worthy [insert inevitable comment about "using her noodle" here]. Or maybe the embossers messed up (e.g., it was meant to be inscribed to "Tomas") so they gave her a new one to give to him.