The appalling story of the potato

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The morning was like any other morning, calm, quiet, peaceful, relaxing. little did I know that the evening would be anything from that. As I walked down the marble floor my eyes caught on a beautiful potato lady also out for a stroll. I went up to her and said, ”Hello I think that you look stunning, would you mind giving me your name?” She replied, ”My name is Ava, and what is yours?”  ”Steve,” I said excitedly, this was the first girl that I had spoken to that had actually answered instead of roll her eyes and walk away. ”well Ava would you like to go for a walk with me?” I said hoping she would respond with yes. ”Yes,” said Ava to my delight. So on we walked and talked about what her favourite food was, what she liked to do for fun, what she found interesting. Sometimes I made her laugh then other times she made me laugh until THE HAND showed up reaching for a tomato out of the tomato basket. We quickly did our best to hide and stay still to make sure that THE HAND didn’t notice us. But despite our efforts to stay hidden it still got Ava. she screamed as she was slowly scrubbed under the water, and yelled for help when she was slowly peeled, but it did not stop THE HAND when it chopped her into slices, and then again the other way. it took all I had not to jump out and save her, for if the hand saw me then I would also become what was left of Ava. When she was dumped into the bubbling liquid I believe is called oil I did jump out, but thankfully THE HAND didn’t see me. When she was patted off and dried I then went over to her to mourn the loss of yet another friend. ”It will not happen again,” I said under my breath as tears slid down my skin, silently promising revenge for Ava and all those before her that were killed.

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