“How’s things Marty?” asked Paul.

Paul and Marty were kitchen cupboards, neighbors and comrades for the best of twenty years. They’d been through everything together -They’d been together since they’d left the factory.

“Not the best, Paul,” replied Marty glumly. They’d been having these back to back open talks for years, and Paul knew something was badly wrong with Marty.

“What’s the story?” inquired Paul, with concern creaking into his voice.

“Well,” began Marty, “they’re doing a remodel of the kitchen”. Paul slammed shut at the development. He nearly fell off his hinges. The idea had been worrying him for some time; but could Marty actually be right?

He was never often wrong; His was the cupboard that all the old magazines, catalogues and literature were left in. Paul just had a few damp and illegible newspapers lining the sides, he was under the sink after all. So when something was going down, Marty was the first to know.

Paul spread the news to James, his neighbouring cupboard on the other side, and James spread it to the smooth triplets, the local set of drawers. They never seemed to keep shut so from there the news ran.

The drawers decided to go on strike and refused to open. This didn’t help at all. In fact, it sped up the replacement process tenfold.

The next day they were on the rubbish heap.

“April fools guys,” quipped Marty, which wasn’t funny at all as it was October and it was a completely irrelevant set of words that just didn’t need to be there.

“F*** you,” was the reply he got.

Around a year ago I came in from a night out, a tad intoxicated. In my kitchen I looked around me and I wanted to be productive, as was clearly the sensible thing to do at 4am. And I suppose I was; I ended up writing a collection of micro-stories about the collection of items in my kitchen. I was looking through that notepad today and I decided I’d let them see the light of air, as nonsensical as they may be.

If you enjoyed this story and would like to see more, come back tomorrow for number 4!