“It's what's on the inside that counts.”
Buddy Benson, Alien VS Predator* #quote
Remember that you'll forget. Anyway onto the flash fiction!
The Microwave's Torment
I'm convinced that I'm going through some divine punishment. I'm able to perceive what's around me, hearing and seeing through my glass like some sort of magic power. At least for a microwave. And I won't break. Ever. I've been through generations of family's hopping from garage sale to garage sale, house to house and so kitchen to kitchen.
It's a torturous thing to watch other people. I'm convinced I was a person. Or maybe I'm so jealous I'm convincing myself I was. They get bodies and get to move around. But the worse part happens when I cook.
It doesn't physically hurt to cook. The only suffering I experience happens in my mind. What's food taste like? When they eagerly wait for me to finish heating something, what am I missing out on? I want to experience food. I want to experience flavor. Every part of being of human.
I envy you.