Lonely Potato

Cold Potato

This story was made by my friend, Rosebusheslove!

Flakes of snow fell gently on the ground, creating a natural background music that went along the rhythm of thud thud thud. The outside ground was damp and uneven from melted snow. The were squelch sounds as other ingredients stepped on the snow while running about the land. Most were doing whatever ingredients did in Winter, playing catch or making snow angels. Or whatever they did, Potato wasn't sure. He only had a vague memory of making a snow angel once. It was involuntary and definitely not pleasant.The clouds parted to allow harsh sunlight to peak through and warm the land.

  Potato whimpered from beneath the comfort of his triple folded blanket. The blanket was purposefully far too large for his smaller than average size. On normal occasions, it would engulf all of him, hiding him from outside view. At the same time, it also trapped him in a pit of darkness.

  He loved that darkness, being almost invisible, or so he had managed to convince himself. _Being non-existent_, his mind provided helpfully.
 
  During the winter weathers, he would fold the blanket to trap more warmth. He didn't like the cold. It reminded him of his days trapped in the refrigerator, a place all ingredients dreaded going to.
 
  Now that the sun had shone through allowing some warmth, he briefly entertained the thought of going out. _To meet new friends_, he thought. It was a hopeful thought, he knew. At the back of his head, he also knew he was setting himself up for disappointment. However, as he heard the shrill shouts of laughter and amusement ring out from outside, he started to doubt his anxieties.

  _Why don't I want to go out in the first place?_ He pondered to himself. Immediately, his queries were answered by his inner worries. _Because they could laugh at me, shame me for going out as a pitiful tiny potato. Because they're all confident and mature and they know how to deal with the cold. Because they're social and I'm not_ -- these thoughts could go on for eternity. But he felt an almost overwhelming inner longing as he stared out his frosted window. He knew that longing could never be fulfilled by staying within his beloved blanket.

   An excited yelp from outside sounded, echoing all the way through his room. His eyes travelled roaming his room from his blanket to his door. His attention shifted to his dry, dry ground. Neither snow nor a snowprint rested there. Of course not, not a single other ingredient had stepped a foot within his humble abode. _When was the last time someone visited?_, he contemplated offhandedly. Nevertheless, his eyes eventually came to rest on his wooden doorknob. Without realising it, it appeared he had walked away from the comfort of his blanket all the way to the front of his door. He felt his anxiety eat away at him once again. Sighing, he went to drape his blanket over him as protection. As he raised his head and hands again, a surge of determination washed through him. I will make friends today, he promised himself.