The mustard wants to hear it. He's become a good friend to me. He's been here in the fridge a long time, his label is peeled off and his lid is nearly crusted shut. I know that he's seen many vegetables come and go, but he still wants to listen to my tale, and I am grateful for that.
It won't be long now. I can see the pot of boiling water on the stove. I do not hate the humans for what they are about to do. I know that it is in their nature and I am not afraid.