Nocturne for Condiments in Dark Fridge

I spent the better part of $100 at Trader Joe’s last night to fill my new apartment’s empty fridge with a goat horn’s worth of budget-friendly condiments.

“What if,” I thought aloud, depositing jars of pickles and mustards neatly into their new home, “this was like Toy Story, and the condiments all came alive when I shut the door, but it was sadder because it’s always dark in there.”

Organic ketchup ($1.99) comes to with a shudder, feeling the vinegar rush to his throat. He vomits. To his side, their bodies forced into contact, spicy brown deli style mustard ($.99) screams.

Sauce BBQ TJ’s Sweet & Spicy ($2.49) hums a low, sorrowful tune. Something from a forgotten time.

Pickles organic sandwich ($2.99) and pickles organic sweet relish ($1.99) call to each each other, but it’s so dark, and there are many condiments between them. “Have you any word of my family?” they ask at the same time. Their voices overlap in unintended harmony, sweet as relish itself.

“Ayudame, senores,” salsa verde ($1.99) begs. No one comprehends her save for sauce chili pepper ($1.90), who is too crazed with rage to even think.

Blind since birth, genovese pesto 6.7 oz jar ($2.49) acclimates first. He notices the echo of their words, bouncing off a distant obstruction, and grasps the cavernous dimensions of this cage. He can detect the presence of other vessels roaming the depths. Their faint breathing almost indistinct from the alien hum of the fridge itself.

Down below on the fridge floor, hulking forms prowl blind, dumb, and mute. They can hear the commotion on the shelves above but do not understand it. They search for warmth they will never find. Sausage chicken smoked apple ($3.99) collides with peppered turkey bacon ($2.99) and brays, loud enough to shake the crisper. The condiments recoil. Silence, as dark as the fridge itself, settles in over the world. Mustard organic yellow ($1.69) shits himself.


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