November 17, 2008

Eventually (part 1)

The fridge roared as it did many times before, keeping the contents within from rotting any quicker then they already were. There was a permanent sense of doom amongst the food that called it home; it's not the likely hood of being consumed. No, it was the other possibility that caused the despair, to not be consumed, to sit there on the shelves and be plagued by the mould. Ask any food who cares to listen and they will tell you the same.

As far as food is concerned they live to die a quick painless death and ideally they'd like that to happen sooner rather then later, it's essentially a race, to be taken from there place of origin, processed, packed, put on display, bought and eventually eaten. Dieing by the Mould is akin to us going to hell, nothing scares food more then the thought of rotting away covered and infested by the Mould's dynamical green.

In the crisper Carrot sat in the corner closest to the door lost in thought about how it would end it's days, it dreamed of being cut up and fried and in it's worst nightmare it would be slowly eaten bit by bit, raw and very much alive but it's better then the Mould. Potato walked over and sat next to it, chuckling Potato said.

"Stop thinking about it will you? I'm sure you'll end your days in pieces just the way you like it."

Carrot sighed, smiling he replied, "Hopefully they wont peel me!"

In the corner the pair laughed, they acknowledge their deaths and banter like this passes the time keeping the two relatively sane in stark contrast to some of the other food sitting around and above them. The two relaxed into silence looking at the shelves above and both gazed at the tub of yogurt, sitting at the back under the vent where from which the cold blew forth. Its picturesque label was a facade at best; the picture portrayed smiling strawberries sitting in a green meadow next to a white bowl of pink, succulent, creamy yogurt. There were definitely strawberries in that tub in the form of yogurt but no longer as creamy as it use to be, it was anything but succulent and the pink that was is now as green as the meadow they were suppose to be sitting on, smiling.

"Four weeks now right?" Potato said to Carrot not looking away from the tub. Carrot consumed by a chill colder then the air around it looked down to the crisper floor and replied under its breath.

"It's not fair, there’re still half of them left in that damn tub"

The other half was consumed by the Mould.

November 14, 2008

Clouds in the Ground (part 1)

And the rain hailed down rendering the concrete pavement outside into grey puddles, the reflection gave the illusion that the ground went on forever into the sky. Robert sat at his desk in the mailroom talking to the phone struggling to hear over the thunderous downpour outside.
"I said mark the fucking thing as 'urgent', what the fuck is wrong with you? You retarded or what!?" Mr Jones screamed through the phone from the tenth floor to the where Robert sat.

The basement where the mailroom is situated didn't even have a number, one could say it was at minus one level, a negative integer. Robert stared out his tiny window looking onto the pavement, at this level it was more like he was looking across it. He found himself lost in the pavements reflection for a short while, heaven's sky leading endlessly into Hell, thinking of the irony he chuckled to himself. Once again his sense of humor went unappreciated by the mass of shadows that reside in the mailrooms corners and crevices.

For ten years Robert wasted away in that room, the shadows never back answered him nor were they sympathetic when he cried, the room was decorated only by shards of thought pertaining to what he could have been and what he wanted to be. One shard in particular was his "Life goal list" taped to the wall complete with date stamp, eight years, seven months, two weeks and five days old. The list now clings onto the flimsy tape, faded, covered in dust and consumed by the unkind shadows...