A day in life of a chilli

A Day in the Life of a Chili by

Oops, sorry. I’m still crying. I got left behind yesterday while my family – my mom, dad, bros, sis – all went away. But they did me proud. My mistress fussed over them, washed them, chopped them into tiny pieces and made them sizzle on some EVOO and dropped them into her minestrone soup.

Mistress’s boyfriend constantly brags about how he loves spicy food. My family came through for her and helped her get laid.

Well…not quite. Within a few minutes he rushed to the can and made sounds no one should ever hear. My ears!

It ended well, though. He came out wan, beat and tired. Mistress pampered him and drove him home. Maybe there’s a ring in her future? Booyah!

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Sigh. Stuck inside the fridge again – cold and lonely. But it’s Omelet Monday for brekkie this morning. Time for ME to fulfil my destiny.

Mistress opens the fridge and takes my comrades out. Carrot is super excited and green peppers wave bye but the amputated-in-half onion gives me the side eye. Relax, bro! So much attitude? And arguing constantly about how she (onion) packs more heat than me (chili)? She gives me the middle finger as she exits.

Mistress shuts the fridge door. Wait! I’m still inside! Mistress yells, “Where’s that one fucking chili?”

I’m here!

I’m still caught between the milk carton and a coke can and can barely move but…I’m here!

“Fuck it. I’ll get it for lunch!”

Sigh. Back to being lonely, alone, cold…soggy? What’s leaking? Drip, drip! YUCK! The pineapple juice is making me go from a crispy shiny green to soggy brown.

This must be what water boarding means. Kill me now.

Finally! Lunch time! Another omelet for mistress. It’s my turn to shine, bitches! Mistress peeks through the milk carton and finds me. Phew. I breathe. I see her. I’m soggy and I’ve lost some of my swagger but I play the coquette and wink at her.

“Oh, there you are! I was looking for you all morning!” She flirts back and takes me out.

I say hello to the friendly chopped tomatoes and cilantro but the onion flips me off again.

Mistress picks up a knife. Finally! Time to fulfil my destiny and add spice and heat and flavor. Mistress looks at me closely and squeezes me tight. Ouch!  “Yikes. What happened to you? You’re so mushy and moist. And you smell gross…like a pineapple! And your skin is saggy.”

Wow! Ageist and ableist, much? I was young and at the peak of my health yesterday. You didn’t pick me then…!

VROOOMMMM! VROOOOMMM!

Nooooo!

I suddenly started to twist and turn inside the garbage dispenser stuck to egg shells and wet napkins.  I can hear the onion cackling at my fate. But I’m grateful. I lived a full life. I was with my family one whole day and that’s more than so many of my chili comrades have experienced. Noooo! I can’t breathe…can’t…bye!

 

 


 

Roopa has a regular weekly opinion column on Elephant Journal. Her fiction is published on Eksentrika, Kitaab, Women’s Web and more. She also writes humor and is published on Slackjaw, Frazzled, Greener Pastures Magazine and more. Check out her writing on her personal page at www.themessyoptimist.com

 

Photo by PhotographyCourse on Unsplash

 

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