Lied back

Eyes staring upwards

At the Soft Cell poster

Awkwardly tacked to the ceiling

But already beginning to curl at the edges

The sound of crockery clattering

Gently switches me back to reality

The familiar sound of the pot mixing bowl

Rocking back and forth

As Mum beats the eggs with alarming ferocity

(No mechanical aids in sight to whizz the mix into fluffy...

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