You feel empty, the countless times you’ve crumbled a cookie. It doesn’t feel enough anymore.

What is to be a cookie? To merely run from the witches while enduring the suffering? Think of it as an hourglass, you know one day the sand inside of you will run to the other side, you just don’t know when it will happen.

Mystic Flour Cookie, the beast of Apathy, had noticed your slight change in behavior. Therefore, she had decided to check up on you.

Approaching you from behind she sat down beside you, her eyes remained mostly shut. Shifting so she could properly face you.

“Although I feel nothing, I, the cookie of Apathy, am here to hear your problems.”