Who
Am
I?
I am Booberry, the runt of tree #14. I remember when I first sprouted with my fellow blueberries. We were all small and a beautiful lime green. We were all the same.
Later on in life, everyone else prospered, advancing in life to become a strong blue, succulent blueberry. They were destined to become great things; they would become jams, salads, or even toppings on a delicious meal. Then, there was me: Booberry, the lime green, RUNT.
"Come on Booberrry, just try to absorb more nutrients from the stems!" my neighbour (she was half a centimetre away) Tristaberry once encouraged. I tried. I even got second helpings on our daily Vitamin C meal that day, even though it's my least favourite food.
Day after day, everyone else grew. Even Jaredberry, the last berry to sprout, was getting so plump that he looked more like a buh-own-sy ball, or whatever the farmer's little boy plays with is called.
Through BerryBook, the form of blueberry communication at the farm through messages carried by the ants, I corresponded with Moustacheberry, who grew near the entrance to the farm.
One day, Moustacheberry sent me some disturbing news...
It was U-Pick Time.
