Jaime Lynne Muszynski
As I look directly across from me, I see something that rises great curiousity in my soul.
What I see is a large, intimidating carton of orange juice, with a lone straw standing at attention, at the top of it.
That straw is afraid.
If he grows weary and tired, he will take his last breath, drowning in a sea of pulpless Minute Maid.
If he holds on, he will do his job proudly, and deliver refreshing citrus flavour to the thirsty, chapped lips.
This is his duty.
