Condiments do not go gentle into the quiet night

Troubled by the sudden warmth of the atmosphere and perturbed by a lack of fog drifting through an open window, I found myself at odds with sleep. Tossing and turning when suddenly, there was for a lack of better words, vision. Flashing downstairs, and into the kitchen this vision took me to the fridge and opened it. I sprang from ill slumber, erect with a cold sweat as my vision had left me with a mystery in the back corner.

"My folks just replaced the refrigerator... there possibly can't be anything odd. There just possibly couldn't be..." I mumbled to myself almost like a mantra. Testing my courage, my feet padded against the cool tile floor and I opened the doors to the vault that guarded my family's nourishment.



Bathed in an eerie white light, my eyes scanned across the leftovers wrapped up, the carton of Almond milk, bottles of salad dressing, all possibly in vain for a mystery bottle that eluded my dreams. Almost as I gave up chase, I spied it hiding like some grotesque.



Tempted, I pushed aside other things just to see the bottle that haunted my slumber.



It proved to be an old upcycled Heinz relish container, but the contents were far from green nor pickled. Greeted with a brown liquid, its viscous appearance compounded with the globs thrown against the sides of the jar. Had unnatural forces given up trying to make this liquid escape? Slowly my hand inched towards it finally caressing its cold sides. Picking it up, it weighed down on my hand with dread. Dare I smell this? *pop* Odorless. Now I have to taste this vile thing. I'll leave it for another day, I mean, shouldn't I trust eating things I keep in the fridge? Perhaps not. Perhaps we're all destined to leave that one thing we have no clue where it came from in the back of the fridge.

The elephant in the room, or I guess in our case, the mystery sauce in our fridge.