Diary Entry Number 1:
I had just woken up. It was our final day of travelling in the bag, my name is Carmine. I am a rice grain from the supermarket and after what felt like days of waiting, I’ve finally arrived at the kitchen, my new home. As soon as I saw the room the first thing I noticed after the nice smell, was seeing two campaign rallies off to the side of the ramp that me and the fellow immigrants were coming off from. There were two parties, one run by the main leader behind a party called the Spice Independence Party, Secretary Cauliflower, and another run by a Cucumber with a party called the Greens Party. One group was holding signs that were saying “welcome to the kitchen” and the others were saying “we have too many of you here go back!” I was already prepared for this kind of response since there was reasons to be suspicious and worry about how we might effect them, but it was quite jarring having all these foods be so up front and center with their stances for the new grains in town. It was time for us to get off and walk through the crowds to the immigration cupboard. It was interesting seeing the kitchen and the amount of ads that were placed around the kitchen from the big pantries to the small utensil. I knew that there was a lot of criminal rice grains that were coming along with me and I wish there was a way to not really be associated with them but oh well hopefully the justice process will catch them as best as they can. I am not like those rice grains I promise that. Anyways, when we got to the cupboard they started asking me questions like “how much do you make a year” why are you coming to this kitchen and I explained that back on my farm there was a horrible mold infection that me and my family had to move on from. After all of these they decided to post us up in a very fancy hotel at the top shelf. It was a crazy experience and perspective over the rest of the kitchen but I wondered “why me” like if I’m gonna be honest, all we really needed was a small room and we could’ve made due with that but I’m not gonna complain. I decided to walk to the living room which was broadcasting the news at the time and I couldn’t believe it. I saw me on the tv! I saw a lot of news cameras while we were coming off the bag but there must have been some stock photographer that caught a picture of me because I swapped channels to the Spice Independence channel and I saw me again in the same picture. At this point I started to listen to what they had to say and it definitely was very interesting. They were making claims that the kitchen just couldn’t take the capacity for more grains and they were going to need to start making some deportations. I was quite worried at first since I was only here as a refugee so from now on I will try to keep on my best behaviour and contribute as much as I can to this kitchen. I also heard how they were talking about how while we were in these high shelf hotels there were small scraps that could only afford to stick with the floor. Of course I started to feel bad since yeah, it wasn’t very fair that we were so privileged but it confused me since this wasn’t our fault. It was the governments decision to put us here. I don’t know that really confused me. After that I decided to turn off the tv and start writing this diary entry. Sorry it was so short. I was a little baglagged but I hope I can make the next one more detailed since I’ll try to get a job tomorrow.
I would love to hear your guys feedback on the premise of the story. I didn’t feel like writing a 3 act structure with this story to keep it more layed back and chill. So yeah this is a slice of life story. I don’t think many people are doing them nowadays but I like them so I’m going to stick with this format. If there’s any changes you guys want let me know and have a nice day!
