Soy Sauce-Age Unknown
I’m trapped in this clear package that blurs all of my surroundings. On my right, there are my friends from the seasoning oil packet. On my left are the grumpy fried onions. We bond over stories of our beginnings; when spices were churned and we were poured and locked into our homes. Every day is the same, just how we like it. Our molecules do not stir, and our package does not tear. Until that fateful day. Our peaceful home was slashed apart by a quick cut of a knife. I start to slide and I try to call out to my fellow soy sauce droplets, but of course I have no voice to cry out a warning with. I experience a moment of free-fall before I was hit by cool ceramic. I laid there as the grumpy onions and seasoning oil rained down from above. Suddenly, these huge noodles fell onto me. I was stuck to their damp surface and couldn’t budge. My friends were separated from me and I had no idea where I was. The world began to spin. My noodle and I flew through the air, only to land with painful thump. I began losing myself after the third or fourth spin. Pieces of me had disappeared as if I was being sucked into the noodle. I had lost my family and my friends and finally, I lost myself.