Pedro stood forlornly outside Deck 4’s bulkhead pantry.
“There’s nothing to eat!” he shouted.
There was a sigh and reluctant, shuffling footsteps. His father retrieved a container of orange, circular food.
“These are apricots, dried Earth fruits. You loved them before we left.”
Pedro twisted up his face, trying to remember. The images didn’t form, only secondhand impressions of stories his parents had told.
“Try a no-thank-you bite, please,” said his father.
Pedro scrunched up his nose and bit one.
“These are delicious! Can we get some more?”
His father chuckled in a sad way. “Last box, buddy. Enjoy ‘em.”
Jason P. Burnham has had a bag of apricots in his pantry for at least two years.