Mister Donut

I watched some actors eat doughnuts in an old movie. They looked delicious, looked to be a custard filling, but they didn’t say anything about their meal. Did they enjoy it? Would they want to visit again? Was the doughnut a limited edition or a regular sweet treat that people still buy 20 years later? So the film is 20 years old and I wonder if the actors sometimes think back to that doughnut. Did they eat them for real or spit it out between takes? How many did they have to chew on to get the scene right? I couldn’t get the doughnut out of my head. Mister Donut me.

Forward Momentum

Life is full of twists and turns, but when I look at my current situation, I’d say life is more like a pretzel. I chewed my way through the metaphor and decided from now on I’d live a life moving only forwards, no turning back. I started from my front door and didn’t stop. I hopped over fences, climbed hills, knocked on doors and walked on out the back. I was walking until I reached the end of a cliff. The lady from the last house I entered was with me and she told me to not give up. So, forwards!

Shoe Squelch

The rain filled his shoes, top to bottom. There was a hole in the sole, so a puddle was incredibly inviting for water. There was so much it poured out from the top, like stepping into a bath. Every step made a loud squelch, footprints were imprinted on every surface. He needed a new pair, but he wanted to see these through until they fell apart, soggy socks be damned. He walked up to the casket, squelch, squelch, squelch, and said his farewells to the corpse of a guy he used to know. Squelch, squelch.

Idle

He woke up, rolled out of bed, crawled down the stairs, and then sat in his favourite chair. He sat with a slouch, staring outside, watching the world go by. It was heavy rain, so there wasn’t much to see, but he liked to watch it anyway. A cat was hiding under a tree, and he thought how nice. Sometimes he’d catch a glimpse of a neighbour running through the mist. When there was nothing going on he still sat and stared. His phone was on silent, seven missed calls.

Falling Through The Cracks

The pavement was full of cracks, it’s always been full of cracks, but over the years those cracks had become more like gaps, and when trying to look inside to the other side, all that could be seen was darkness. One day the council may get around to fixing them, many of the paving slabs wobble, and children often play a game about avoiding such paths. I still dare myself to walk on the cracks, to see if I can make it. Underneath, somebody screams.

Nail-Biter

On the bus, I’m biting my nails, because guess what? It’s a real nail-biter of a journey. I’m sat upright, on edge as the bus passes the same sights I see every day shrouded in grey. I draw blood as we hit the next town, I can’t stop biting because this is that sort of trip. Do I swallow the torn nail clippings or let them fall into the cracks of the bus? I don’t even know, because my office is in sight.

Emails

I check my emails daily for the one that will do me in. Special restaurant offers, the biggest lotto draws, job boards full of awful jobs, a couple of likes from the latest blog about morning wood, that book I want still isn’t in stock, someone has sent me a message from a dating site I’ve never used, my bank has been hacked, pills for morning softs, the government are calling. Which will do it ?

Hand

I took a look at my hand and it didn’t feel like my hand, it didn’t look like my hand. I clenched my fist, wiggled each finger, but it still didn’t look like my hand. I tried to touch something with it, but I could feel nothing. Who swapped my hand out with another? How did this hand get here? It looked so far away, sometimes body parts and words go off on long sabbaticals.

X Marks The Spot

The spots on his back formed a map. After much analysis and not allowing the poor sap to apply spot cream, it was determined the map pointed to treasure in the nearby area. A group went hunting and quickly found the spot that the spots lead to. A big spot was growing from the earth and to get to the treasure they had to pop it with a pneumatic drill. A giant mole lived within.

Train Fight

The view is sometimes nice whilst riding on a train. Away from the city, it’s nice to view the fields, hills and sheep. The train seems to be going faster than usual but still taking its time to reach its destination. The ticket inspector comes by from time to time, but all the tickets were checked and scanned long ago. I look outside again and see a pair of legs dangling. Just another train fight.