Breakfast Grid

A wooden cooling rack rested flat on the kitchen tile, bearing two thick slices of crisp toasted sourdough! Irresistible geometric crannies! Click-clack! I shoved my pointed snout right between the wooden slatted rungs underneath the toast. A crunchy golden crust blocked my nose, but I didn't stop—I tilted my head, shoved the warm slice sideways with my jaw, and looped my middle segments through the newly opened slat. The toasted aroma tickled my scales as each link clicked into a snug zig-zag curve under the bread!