Flash Fiction: It's an Apple Pie life

I arrived on the shelf at 8.30am.   For the first few hours of sitting no one came near the baked goods aisle.  Obviously not a good time for us. Then midday arrives and people are hungry for buns and doughnuts, but no one looks at the apple pies. No one. I feel sad.

So I sit and wait.  I have 1.5 days left on my tag, otherwise it’s “bye bye, Miss American Pie”, as the great Don McClean once sang.  

The afternoon is slow, some apple pies are bought but I am left in the shelf.  I really don’t want to go to the rubbish bin. That would be a good whole waste of an apple pie and the end of my life.

It is now coming to the end of the day, the shop is about to close and I am still on the shelf.  But there is always tomorrow.  Hang on, hey, someone is coming, they are looking at the apple pies, they are looking at me.  Maybe this is my chance. Is it? Oh yeah he picks me up, I have pulled, I have scored. Give me a high five!

He takes me to the counter and my bar code is scanned.  Money changes hands and I am put into a plastic bag.  We leave the shop together, woo hoo I am happy.  We get into a car and it’s off we go. Freedom for me. No bin for me. Yeah!

The car stops, we get out and go into the house.  I get taken out of the bag and put into a big cold cupboard.  It’s so cold. I am not liking this. What have I done to deserve this? It is so cold. I am shivering.  How long will I have to stay here? It’s Baltic in here.

Finally, after what seems like decades I get taken out of the cold place.  I am being carried then am put into another enclosed place.  This time it is hot – so so hot.  I think I have gone to hell. I am dying.  Think I would have preferred to go into the bin.  LET MEEEEEEEE OUTTTTTTTTTTT.  That’s it I’m dead!