James

Being a blender feels like a life of quiet neglect, trapped in a cycle of constant use and eventual abandonment. You're whirred into action, expected to churn out perfection with each turn of the dial, but no one ever notices the strain it takes on your gears. After the task is done, you’re often left sitting on the counter, your blades still spinning in your mind, waiting for the next task that may never come. The fruits and vegetables you blend are always fresh and vibrant, but you’re just a tool, your purpose fleeting and forgotten once the drink is poured. It’s a lonely existenc-

flies

I listened to the voice. WHERE’S MY PIPEBOMB?!