Toasty Love

I'll never forget the day that she came into my life.

An ordinary (I thought) Tuesday. When I woke up that morning I never thought that this particular Tuesday would be the day I met the love of my life.

It was a summer day; the sun was shining overhead and the skies were blue as I walked down the highstreet. Whilst I walked I was deep in thought, contemplating the classics when all of a sudden a massive black cloud conquered the sky. The cracking of thunder could be heard, and a heavy beating of rain came down upon the people in the streets.

I'll always thank God for creating that storm.

As the harsh rain fell on my shoulders I beat my way through the crowds, through the door of Marks and Spencer's. I decided it would be best for me to take shelter in the store, hoping that the rain would last only a few moments.

I began chatting with an old lady also avoiding the wet, to pass the time we discussed Virgil but it was not long until we had exhausted conversation. I excused myself from her company and decided to walk around the store.

I soon happened across the home wares section of the store and that's where I saw her.

Stood amongst an assortment of toasters, I could tell she was looking at me.

It was love at first sight for me. As I stood, watching her, it was an odd moment, I was no longer aware of the people bustling by, the rain beating down on the roof, the cracking of thunder and the occasionally flashes of lightning outside. Time seemed to stand still as I stared longingly at her, at the curves of her stainless steel body, at the width of her bread slots, the removable crumb tray, independent slot control, variable browning knob and her accompanying warming rack.

Then all of a sudden time sped up again. I was extremely dazed. The rain had stopped and many people were heading towards the store's exit. I was somehow swept away with the crowd.

I had trouble sleeping that night, I lay in bed longing for her, briefly falling asleep to dream of her.

The next morning I dressed up as nice as I could. I spent hours deciding how to wear my shirt, tucked in or out? sleeves down, folded, or rolled? Tie or open collar?

When I was ready I examined myself in the mirror. I wore a dark shirt, open collar, sleeves rolled up and tucked into freshly ironed black trousers, done up with a smart leather belt, ending with my polished shoes. I decided I was dressed smart, but not too smart, the open collar and rolled sleeves suggested a slight rebellious and adventurous nature of me.

I brushed my hair back, once again, looking for the neat but casual look. I hoped I did not look austere.

Some nice sandalwood aftershave finished it all off, and I left to go and see my love.

We spent much time together that day. I sat down by the shelf on which she was displayed and whispered sweet somethings into her bread slots, occasionally adjusting her browning control.

We received a few funny looks from passing by shoppers, and the manager asked us to leave a couple of times, but I knew that they were all just jealous of our relationship.

When the shop started clearing out in preparation for closing time I made the decision that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Sure, she only had four modes on her her browning control and warming rack wasn't as large as it could have been, but she was all I desired. I whisked her into my arms and ran through the door of the shop, people staring after me. I ran all the way home, holding her ergonomic body tight to my chest.

That night I had her in my bed, we stayed up talking until the early hours - she was a great listener. I told her how she was the only one for me and read her some of the poetry I had written about her.

We spent the days of the following weeks madly in love with one another. I took her out to restaurants daily, I took her to the beach to sunbathe, to the cinema, hiking, camping, yachting, we even did some water skiing though it wasn't really her thing it seems.

We had an extremely passionate relationship, I had never felt good - I was on top of the world and a walking clich�. I should have known that it would not last..

I came home from work early one day to find my love sitting with her crumb tray out, next to the kettle. A small plume of condensation. It was obvious what I had walked in on.

A tear formed in the corner of my eye and I fled the scene. I ran as fast as I could up the stairs, now blinded by tears. I slammed the door shut and lay face down on the bed, crying into the pillows. I could feel my heart pounding in anger. I lay there until the sun fell and all was dark and quiet, then quietly, I took a mallet, walked down the stairs, and killed them both.

I buried the broken shells of the two kitchen implements in the far end of the garden.

No one ever found them.