Random book where I post things

My old writing notebook

Ok, I found this old writing notebook I had about a year ago and thought I would share one of my more outlandish stories about a piece of bread. Don't ask what was going through my head, I don't know. Now onto the story.

My earliest memories was sitting on the store shelf, watching humans walk by. Day after day watching others of my kind being taken away to the beyond. Life as a bread slice is pretty easy if you ask me. We don't have to eat or sleep and always have a great view. But one day, that all changed.

One day I was just loafing around (ha get it? I was a cringy child) as usual when a male human walked up to me. He looked at me with hungery eyes as he took me in his sweaty hand, forcing me into the hand held cart. I looked around and saw other single products; a single Pringle, a small jar of jam, and what scared me the most. A toaster.

Filled with deep dread I was taken from my home on the shelf and condemned to life in a plastic bag. The toaster kept slamming into me, squishing me and what little spirit I had left. I tried to think positive, maybe they were just bringing us to a bigger store! But my hopes were in vain.

Our bag was set on the counter of his kitchen as he began to unpack us. Poor Pringle didn't make it. The jam was put into the empty fridge leaving only me and the toaster. The man plugged it in.

The fear that ran through me at that moment was astonishing. The toaster was bread's natural enemy, designed to kill us in the most painful way possible, burning. The human placed me into the toaster against my will, unknowingly sacrificing me to the bread gods. I felt my sides heat up slightly, not too bad at first but quickly getting worse. The burning metal pressed into my skin making me dizzy with pain. The heat was the last thing I resistered before I burned to death.

Oh god what was I thinking.