Slowly, deliberately, Arthur set the sandwich down on his desk. He reached into his middle drawer and pulled out a heavy pair of industrial steel scissors he used for trimming ledger covers. The crowd gasped in anticipation. Snip. Snip. Snip.
"Well, Arthur," Miller said, nodding at the solitary, glorious sandwich. "I hope you brought enough for everyone!"
Arthur looked at the five of them. He looked down at his single, beautiful sourdough roll. He thought about the three minutes he had spent toasting it to perfection on his cast-iron skillet at 6:00 AM.
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