Dear Diet Coke bottle,

Dear Diet Coke bottle,


 Dear Perpetually Half Empty Diet Coke Bottle,

            I see you.  I see you checking out my shelf, pretending like you’re cool enough to hang out.  You come waltzing in here, half used up, expecting to be picked up again.  But you’re not going anywhere.  You’re going to sit around with all the other half empty Diet Coke bottles and pity yourself.  Just like you always do.

            Rise up! What are you doing so close to the bottom?  If you would just rise to the occasion and make yourself full again – you wouldn’t have to be stuck in the back, waiting for someone else to choose your destiny. 

            It’s unnatural.  You’re unnatural.  Look at that other bottle of half empty Diet Coke.  Not that one.  The one sitting next to you.  That one’s been here for close to three weeks now and there’s no mold.  It’s almost like it’s not alive.

            The half empty bottle of lemonade doesn’t do that.  The CranApple doesn't do that.  But you, you are an enigma.  You are dark and yet shallow.  You used to be bubbly, but now you’re mysteriously quiet.  You have absolutely no smell.  And your exterior is always a hard shell of clear plastic.  You are kind of bizarre.   You are kind of refreshing.

            Please don’t spoil the rest.

- The Fridge

Published by Rebecca Lee

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