One day, a stranger came to town. He told tales about the Big City, a place peppered with all sorts of spices and seasonings.
The little raisin wrinkled with excitement. Pickled fruits! Intricate garnishings! The city sounded like a delicious and colorful salad party! She decided that the city is where she should be.
She climbed out of the refrigerator, crossed the kitchen sink, and skipped over the rice box until finally she arrived at the Big City.
It was everything she thought it would be and more! She roomed with a couple of maraschino cherries and immediately dove into the pulse of city life.
But after a few years, the raisin turned bitter. She felt like the city had an overpowering taste and she couldn't blend in.
She began wandering aimlessly around carrot skyscrapers, trying to find substance in the white pepper dust. She finally stopped at a pool of chili soybean mush. She squinted as she looked down on the shiny crimson surface, feeling the sting from the reflection of the white onion sky.
Then she saw it, the green cucumber moon.
The raisin remembered the cool cucumber hills but at the same time she knew her home was now this savory, sometimes pungent city.
She realized the reason for her bitterness was because she had treated herself like a condiment, always putting her unique zest on the side.
As the raisin created new dreams, her sweetness oozed. It flowed through her folds, coating the salad city with her beautiful, suggestive flavor.
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| This is my salad. What's yours? |
