the remaining ounces of cereal… so pathetic… crumbles of what could be — sad, fallen cousins of fully formed flakes. the dregs stare back from the depths of a foggy, plastic bag that begs for the trash. but no! that would be premature. an over-reaction. always just enough cereal sediment to make it worthwhile, but not enough for a full bowl. so the weak little dreg flakes must be merged with whatever new box of cereal that was hoping for a fresh start. sorry, new cereal. you must lift your weak little dreg brothers and sisters up to my mouth and disappear them before you can have your opening performance.