A Shelf Without Love

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Pesto POV:

I was supposed to be happy. My taste was the best out there and everyone wanted me.

However, when everyone left the restaurant, sadness came to me, my shelf and I (yes, I was sitting on a shelf, they forgot to put me in the fridge).

I felt like I wanted to love but who could a pasta love?? How could I build a relationship with my body?

And what if I didn't like pasta and preferred rice? Could we even build a family? Have children? Would they be called rice-pasta?

Too many questions.

Not enough answers.

No answers at all.

So I jumped.

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