20 July 2007

La Note

Dear Evinrude/Melody/Whatever-you-call-yourself,

I've decided to run away. For months, you've put me away into that cold, cold closet of yours (I think you humans call it the refrigerator). Ever since that one time in February, you've decided to set me aside and not let me into your life again. I've been hoping that one day you would take me out of that icy dungeon and put me on that bain marie again. Melt me and stir me into whatever you're baking. But, everytime you ravage through the fridge, you only glanced so briefly at me. Each time, I harbour more hopes that you'll look at me for more than 3 seconds. But you've let me down again and again. So, I've now left you in search of greener pastures. Don't bother looking because I'm probably in someone else's cake now.


P.S.: Your testing pin didn't run away with me. He's in the box grater.

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