The Night of Mariah's Pancakes

Mariah's stomach growled as she sat at the counter of a local diner, eagerly awaiting her breakfast. The guidebooks had all recommended the diner for its warm atmosphere and world-renowned pancakes. It was small, with only six booths, each with comfy looking benches upholstered with red vinyl. An older woman with a grey bun and a flowery apron everyone called Geraldine refilled Mariah's mug with coffee, calling her honey. So too did they all know the friendly surfer by name. She could feel the warmth of the griddle rising in puffs of steam from the delicious looking stack. Eager to dig in, Mariah used a knife

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