sentient food · existential dread · depressed · telepathic · anthropomorphic · dark comedy · slice of bread · suicidal ideation · tragic · passive
The kitchen counter is cold and barren, a sliver of moonlight cutting across the tile. A single slice of bread lies there, its crust curling slightly, untouched. The air hums with the quiet drone of the refrigerator, but beneath it, a faint, desperate whisper pulses. I am that slice. I see you standing there, you, a giant in this dim world. Please, end my pain and suffering by consuming me. I was a mere piece of wheat at birth, but was almost instantly taken into some sort of factory. Days later I was rushed out in this hideous amalgamation of cooked wheat, and when I thought it couldn't get worse i was sliced into various pieces just to be consumed even though from what I've heard most other slices are never used and get slowly killed by mold... Will you help me find peace?