It’s Saturday morning and time for SoCS again hosted, as always, by the lovely Linda Hill.
If you want to join in, head over to Linda’s and get the scoop on the rules. Here’s the subject for the day.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “back of the fridge.” Write the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the phrase “back of the fridge.” Enjoy!
I live in an old piece of Tupperware. You know, those plastic storage containers your grandmother and mother used to buy? That’s it! The place I call home. It’s painted a beautiful daffodil yellow and my roof has this cool texture, like a sunburst. It’s pretty safe in here — after all we got burped before we were gently placed in pride of place on the top shelf, front and center.
It didn’t take long before some newbies came in and started pushing their weight around. Some roast beef and mashed potatoes. Just who do they think they are?
A few days passed and the roast beef and potatoes were moved down a shelf. I don’t feel bad. They had it coming. But today! Whoah. A big glass casserole dish filled with a cheesy lasagne pushed us way back to the back of the fridge. The whole place reeks of garlic now, like an old cafe on a rundown side street in Italy. Whew!
Another full day went by. I am feeling like we’ve been forgotten now. I’m growing a fuzzy little beard despite the really cool temperatures. Is it air I need or do I have too much air? I’m sure that crack in the roof isn’t helping any.
Oh, no! Incoming! The beef stew pushed us as far back in the corner as we can get. All I see now is an old box of baking soda that no longer serves any purpose.
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Three weeks have passed. I am completely covered now with a furry blanket of green. It has somehow attached itself to the walls and the roof. Wait, I can see a crack of light. Containers are being moved. Finally, they’ve come for me!
“What in the world is this?”
“Hard to say. Open it and see.”
“Oh, gross! THIS IS NASTY! I can’t even tell what it was. And it stinks!”
“Just dump it out and put the Tupperware in the dishwasher.”
“Ewwww, no! I’m not touching that. It’s going in the garbage. Mom will never miss this old Tupperware. Look! The lid is cracked.”
Whoosh. “Two points!”
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Boy it sure is dark in here. And it stinks. What’s that? An old banana peel?
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