Two Peas in a Pod: My Own 1-man Competition
I woke up one morning with a challenge on my mind. Someone had invited me, in my sleep, to participate in a writing contest. They told me I had to write on the theme: “Two Peas in a Pod.”
At first I thought, how can someone write about two peas in a pod and make it interesting? I came up with a story, anyway. After a few minutes, and determining the climax of the story, I thought, “That wasn’t very creative, because I wrote down the first thing that came to my mind. I decided it had to be more creative, with a little more color in it.
I’m going to tell the two stories here, then I’ll let you decide which one I wrote first, which is more creative, and which one you liked. The order of the stories here is not necessarily the order in which I wrote them that adventurous morning. Here they are:
Once upon a time there were two peas in a pod. Everything was harmonic, and the two peas got along like two . . . . well, everything was violin music and sunsets. Each couldn’t imagine living without the other.
Then one day they sensed that they were being harvested. The first pea said to his soul-mate, “They’re going to separate us! I know it!”
The second pea said, “If our love is true, Fate will take care of us, and bring us together, again.”
The first pea said, “Know this, that even though I may snuggle up to other peas, I’ll always love you, even in your absence.”
The harvest came and went, and -- sure enough -- they were separated. The first pea spent the next few days in abject loneliness. He was put in a dark can with other peas, but they were strangers, and his sunshine wasn’t there. He thought this was the end.
Suddenly, there was light, and he found himself sliding into a large bowl. When all was still, he waited a while and thought, “I’m going to be re-arranged, and I’ll never be with . . . . (what was her name?).” Soon there was another rush, and added weight. Another can of peas had been dashed into the bowl.
He looked around, and, to his astonishment, he found the second pea snuggling up to him with that look on her featureless face. He couldn’t tell if the heat that cooked them was from an outside source, or from the chemistry of himself interacting with his newly recovered sweet-pea.
They stayed together after that, and were eaten happily after evening.
Once upon a time there were two peas in a pod. They were brother and sister, but nobody knew who the sister was, because both were brothers, and both were sisters.
As they grew, the first one was passive and humble. The second one became a bully, and took in more nutrition than the first one. He/she also kept pushing the first one out of the way, which ruined his/her appetite, and he/she never grew as fat as the second one.
When there was a noticeable difference between the first one and the second one, the second one laughed with scorn at the first one, and said, “Hah! Look at you! You’re a wimp, and not very handsome!” Then he/she laughed some more, and said, “You’re so little, that no one will ever want you. They’ll see me, and choose me over you!”
Harvest day came, and the two peas were processed. Sure enough, the second pea’s prediction came true, and the sorters separated the two, sending the second one -- the fat one -- off to the market, while the first one was pushed into a dirty box. The last thing the first pea heard was the gloating laughter of the second pea.
To make a medium story shorter, the second pea was eaten, and the first one was replanted.
So the first pea, because he/she was humble, lived eternally, while the second one, because he/she was a bully, was molecularly disintegrated, and became a pile of . . . er, dung.