The Lonely Orange

It was a normal day in the kitchen, me, a lonely orange, sitting on the countertop near the sink, contemplating Nietzsche's theories and philosophies. Then everything changed.
"Hey fruit." A booming voice sang out. "Fruit!" I rolled my eyes as I looked across the large kitchen at the two door silver refridgerator, who happened to be staring at me. "First off, I am an orange, not just a fruit, and secondly, what the heck do you want?!" I shrieked irritably. "Okay Orange," the fridge said, adding extra emphasis on my name, "I wanted to ask if you would like to stay inside me. Won't you rot if you stay out there?" I sighed."For the millionth time, I have to remind you that, citruses, such as myself, have a good counterlife and we all will rot eventually, whether out here, or in there." I explained slowly, making sure I made myself clear. The fridge looked slightly confused. I groaned. "You don't get it, do you?" I inquired. "Not really, your friends are inside." the fridge suggested hopefully. "I have no friends." I stated. "Oh." Fridge said, with a frown, "I'll be your friend!" it exclaimed cheerfully. "Sure... I guess." I said, begrudgingly.

From that day on, the fridge and I stayed close friends. Laughing at each other's jokes, hanging out and enjoying each other's company. Well we did until the day I died, which was two days later.