Worlds Apart

Marge Mango was in love. She lay on the bottom shelf pining for the object of her affection. Artie Yogurt was concerned. Why so glum, he asked.
She paused and said, here I am, young and succulent, wasting away. Becoming overripe. Marge gathered herself. Two weeks ago the human went shopping and I found myself tossed into a bag with...Christopher.
Christopher?
Oh, yes. He was hard and firm, pressing against me. Rough, beautifully curved skin. When we arrived at the human's house we were separated. I thought, no big deal, he's on a different shelf.
But I was wrong. The human placed him atop the refrigerator. I screamed inwardly. We were worlds apart. I had no idea avocados are not refrigerated. They must ripen in open air.
Marge broke down. He is probably in the human's digestive system. Artie looked closer and saw small blotches on her skin. Soon she would be overripe.
If it makes you feel better, he said, I was thrown into a bag with Styrofoam cups. Laugh if you must, but I was smitten. They were put in a cabinet. It may as well be Mars.
Marge and Artie both began sobbing. The saddest words in the food universe...what might have been.