It Was A Gas


"What time is it?"


"Could you check?"

Sven shoved a sweaty hand into a jeans pocket.

"Yeah, five-something."

"We should head back - my folks left me dinner, you can have half."


"Oh fuck."


"I didn't bring my house key."

"Did you lock up?"


Red and Sven stood on the corner of the movie complex for a moment, the evening air cooling. A small breeze built from the beach in the west.

"Hey, is that a microwave?"

Red cast her eyes across the road to see a lone microwave amongst a pile of other discarded junk on the verge of a block of flats.


"You've got ten bucks right?" Sven began to cross the dual carriageway without waiting for an answer.

"What're you doing Sven?"

"Follow me! There's an Farmer Jacks just past - well it's over there somewhere!"


"How did you know we had outdoor power outlets?"

"Lucky guess."

Red took another mouthful of discount microwave tikka masala whilst thumbing through an astral projection book she had found on another verge.

"Does that stuff actually work?" Sven asked, mouth full of curry and instant rice.

"The book's waterlogged - I can't read the testimonals."

"Very funny."