Day 1 of being a sandwich.
Day 1:
Keep in mind I don’t know I’m a sandwich yet. I’ve only just been born. I stretch my lettuce and peer around with my olive (yeah I’m a fancy sandwich - I acknowledge the privilege). The first thing I notice are all the sounds, colours, movement, and objects. Basically everything.
But sandwiches are born with common sense, so I quickly recognize that the many coloured objects moving around me are people. One of these people is mine, and it’s my job to find it. I peer around with my olive, but I don’t see any obvious candidates. In fact all I can see are a bunch of feet walking all around me. Also I’m not even on a plate - not even a table! This is not how you treat a sandwich. I think I might be on the… ground?
Dear Jesus, does that mean I’ve been dropped? That I don’t even have a person? Maybe the only thing eating me will be a garbage can—oh look a rat, you’ll do. Yeah, let’s get out of here.