The soup that voted
I left a pot on the stove and went to find salt. When I came back the lid was off and the dog was sitting like a mayor.
Ten tiles a page. Newest first. Open a card for the full piece.
I left a pot on the stove and went to find salt. When I came back the lid was off and the dog was sitting like a mayor.
The courier rang every bell. We all opened our doors. He held up a box of lemons and asked who had ordered summer.
The paper map folded itself into a swan. We still reached the station, but the swan looked disappointed.
I set an auto-reply. The office fern started answering clients. Its tone was greener than mine.
She sat on the form until the ink dried in a new signature. The clerk accepted it. I did not argue.
The loaf from Tuesday was still on the counter. It had grown a personality and a small moustache of flour.
The building asked for silence after ten. The kettle on the fourth floor filed a complaint in steam.
I bought a ticket for the coast. The train stopped at a lake and refused to discuss it.
Five of us, one jammed lift, and a man who treated it as an open mic. We reached the lobby as a troupe.
He ate the shopping list and then led us through the shop in the correct order. We tipped him in biscuits.