What the guac?
Rewrite the Dragon Prince's tale, from the point of view of the dragon. Or write a response to the Lady Griselda when she discovers her husband's secret. Or write what comes next for the Dragon Prince, after he has sent Griselda back to the court of Eleanor of Aquitaine.
I was harvested by Santiago Feliz Cristiano just outside of Morelia, Michoacán state, Mexico. The tree I grew in was planted in fertile volcanic soil thirteen years ago. Santiago used a harvesting pole with attached bag to snip me out of the tree. He was careful not to drop me on the ground because avocados can not be exported if they are dropped. I went through a very thorough cleaning and packing process along with my other box mates. We rode in a truck across the United States where the grocery store worker, Kristina Jones, unpacked us onto the produce table. While proudly waiting my turn to be picked, I noticed several things about the grocery market. Every day, there was the sound of thunder but never a storm. The lettuce and carrots got to enjoy a mist, but not me. There was a cartoon of me drawn above where I waited. I was very confused by the drawing. Why did the artist draw me with a large brown mustache? Avocados do not have mustaches. Kristina didn’t have a mustache, Santiago didn’t have a mustache, most of the shoppers don’t have mustaches as far as I can tell. I was very nervous the day leading up to my day. I could tell I was starting to fade a bit. It seemed like Sandra, the instacart shopper, was in a rush when she picked me. I heard her mutter under her breath something about not being able to find any good bananas. The car ride to Cassie’s house was rough. I somehow got lodged under a gallon of milk and a can of beans. Two boys came to the door to take all of us groceries inside. One boy started shoving another and yelled something about being late for a class. When he tossed my bag onto the floor, I could feel something was wrong.
I never wanted any of this. I enjoyed my tree and my life in Mexico. When I discovered I’d come to America to help provide food, I was sad and happy at the same time; sad to leave my home but excited about helping someone else. When Cassie came home, I couldn’t wait to meet her and help her enjoy some good food for lunch. I just wish I could have held on a little while longer. That would have made all the difference.