The Perishable Pea
This is the tragic tale of how I perished.
It was not a noble death, for no pea dreams of being squashed beneath several hundred pounds of feathers, fabric, and one very finicky female. But the voice of a pea is never heard.
I had dreams, aspirations! To be savored between the molars of royalty! To fancy the tongue of a duke, to tickle the taste buds of a queen! That is the dream of every pea. It was all the gossip in our burlap sack. We pondered what dishes we would be chosen for. Would we make the acquaintance of carrots and celery in a savory stew or garnish the king's fine roast? I myself wanted to be featured in the self-titled Split Pea Soup. But it was not meant to be, not for this poor little pea.
Instead, i was stolen from my glory and whisked away from the kitchen of my dreams to a place most forbidden; eating in bed is a most egregious crime.Forever exiled in shame under a mountain of mattresses so great. Each night more were piled upon me until finally I split, but not in a soup-no, not a soup. Right down the middle, through and through till my insides came out and with all my might, I screamed.
"I implore thee, what was my crime?! What heinous act did I commit to deserve such punishment?"
But none heard the words that rolled from my dieing lips.
In the last few moments before my departure, I pondered a question most distressing. Who would remember me?
In all the world, I was the only perishable pea.
Awwww! Poor pea. Very nicely done! Now I'd like some split pea soup.
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