Instant

The dial on my microwave goes up to 30 minutes. 30 minutes? Surely that's just for show? We used to have a old Vauxhall Cavalier with 160 mph on the speedo. The only way it would have reached that is vertically. But no, the makers of this microwave actually believe you might need to heat something for half an hour. Cooking is a job for an oven. A microwave is all about the snappy reheats. Put a potato in for thirty minutes and it will come out hotter than the sun. Microwavable food is questionable enough before it goes in there; bathing it in invisible, particle accelerating radiation for half an hour is not going to do anyone any favours.

The Shoebox

It was just a collection of cards, notes and photos; worthless items really, but all of them sitting like a stone in my gut. I carried that box down the stairs and lugged it into the outside bin like a dead body in a carpet. I dusted my hands and looked around guiltily, expecting to be caught.

The Life of Dairy

So you have some milk.
But you don’t drink it.
And after a while it goes off.
So now it’s yoghurt.
But you don’t eat it.
And after a while it goes off.
So now it’s cheese.
But you don’t eat it.
And after a while it goes off.
So now it’s stilton.
But you don’t eat it.
And after a while it goes off.
So you throw it away.

Guessing

She is like a magic trick to me

She does things

I don’t understand
But if I did

I probably wouldn’t love her so much.