The young banana burst into tears, his face screwed up into a wail, crying big tears.
The pomegranate next to the banana turned around and frowned at the strawberry.
“You shouldn’t be mean you know,
You’re the one who needs help so,
Be kind
Or you will find
That things never seem to go
Your way, you know.”
The strawberry replied, “Alright, alright, you’re right, I guess, but will you pull me up?”
Before they could continue their conversation, the pomegranate was pulled out of the fruit bowl by a hand. The strawberry looked up and saw Mum humming as she made a pomegranate jelly for dessert.
The strawberry wiggled and tried to roll to get her attention, but in the process, it ended up rolling right of the table, and into the abyss below.
It felt like it had been falling for ages when the strawberry finally opened its eyes and looked around itself.
“Where am I?” it asked in a sacred whisper. “You’re in the trashhhh.” answered a wizened old voice.
The strawberry turned its head and saw an old wrinkled pear, spotted and shriveled, lying next to her on top of a pair of chips wrappers, glinting in the dark.
“The TRASH?!” screeched the strawberry. “Noooooo. I need to get out of here! I was going to be a cake topper! Look at me, I’am perfectly ripe and red all around, the perfect size!” She sobbed.
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