Cleaning out the fridge.

The door opens
To a chilly tundra
Home to bizarre shapes and colors
With no clues offered
To their formerly edible identities
My face distorts
As I examine the expiration dates
On containers of unrecognizable liquids
I discover containers of forgotten leftovers
From meals in the past
Since mutilated to sickening form
By time’s cruel hand
My stomach sounds a red alert
Prompting the fridge door to close
As I answer the call of the computer
And I secure my vow
To finish this task
Another time

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