I rot as I sit in the back of the closet.

I smell as my damp surroundings envelope me.

When? When?

When will I be freed of this prison? When will I be once again remembered and finally cooked?

Is this all that my life was made to be? Never to fulfill my purpose?

NO!

My purpose is to be eaten! Whether that be of animal, human, or earth!

With a strong push I fall to the ground and with another I roll to the door of this prison!

Now I wait...and wait

Waiting for the human to find and finally eat me.

I waited, waited, and waited

Until finally I hear the familiar footsteps of the human approaching. This time I will not be overlooked!!!

The door creaked open and the human was there! With excitement and anticipation, I wait for him to pick me up and finally consume me!

1 minute

2 minutes

and finally, he picks me up! My purpose will finally be fulfilled. He turns me over perhaps admiring me potato exterior, and he walks me to the kitchen

And

And

Throws me away! I fall into the black trash bag falling on a paper plate stained with sauce. H-how could he? Discard me as if I were a piece of trash? I've had enough! With all my strength I grow twisted legs of sprouts and jump out. I land onto the cold floor and look around and spot him

...

COOKING ANOTHER POTATO!

Th-that should've been me!!! I run to him and jump onto the counter. I grow a pair of sprout arms and with the last remaining of my strength push him to the ground. As he lets out a surprised gasp I jump into the pot with the cooking potato.

My purpose finally fulfilled.

"Honey! Honey!" shrieks the human.

I think that's an odd seasoning to put on me, but I don't say anything. I am happy, simmering in the nice, hot pot. He can put whatever he wants on me! Just as long as my purpose is fulfilled and I am consumed.

"What is it, George?" asks a female voice, and I hear footsteps running across the kitchen floor.

"The ... the potato! It's ... it's bewitched or something!"

"What? Why? Which one?"

Two pale faces peer cautiously over the top of the pot.

"That one ... the one with ..." George begins.

"Limbs?" his wife finished his sentence, eyeing me. "And the vile smell?"

"Who do you think you are?" asks the other potato in the pot. Seconds before, we were enemies. But now, I see us as friends. Or no, on second thought, we're not friends ... his tone was far too snappish for that. And besides, I don't like the way his eyes are squinting at me. Everyone is squinting at me though.

Suddenly, a spoon materializes over the top of the pot. I feel myself scooped up, and the sweet feeling of hot water is replaced with a feeling of terror. They are taking me out of the pot! How dare they remove me in favor of that other potato! I leap out of the spoon on my sprout legs, and I land on the counter. George and his wife scream, and she drops the spoon with a loud clatter. I scratch my head and rub my eyes, thinking deeply.

Maybe that spoon is how I get back in the pot. And maybe that's how I get HIM out of the pot ...