The crescent roll sat in front of me, steaming, the butter melting down the sides and dripping onto the petite plate.

I sat with my hands in my lap, staring at the butter, thinking about adding some jam to the mess when my door buzzer rang. I sat there for a moment more, hoping whoever it was would go away when the buzzer rang again. Two short bursts of noise and then one long buzz.

“Great.” I thought. “It’s Marvin.”

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