Drop dead bread

I have a magic loaf of bread. I won’t keep it a secret from you. It’s generic Kroger wheat bread. I bought it for a dollar. But here’s where the magic comes in—I don’t remember when I bought it. It must’ve been months ago, but it hasn’t molded yet! It seems perfectly fine, a little dried out, but no green, fuzzy patches.

I know what you’re thinking—the curse or pixie dust or fairy dust or spell or incantation or wish or gnomes or sprites or dwarves or ghosts or demons that live inside the bread aren’t magic. They’re called preservatives.

Needless to say—have I been eating this very, very old yet miraculously mold-less bread? Of course! Granted, I eat it at a very slow pace because I’m out of town a lot, but it can’t be bad if there’s no mold, right?

Today I received a surprising bit of news—loaves of bread have expiration dates. I didn’t know they had expiration dates! All my life, I always just waited for the mold. But what if the mold never comes?

What’s to become of me? Of us? (me and the bread)