I like burning the tip of my tongue on a cup of tea, me. It reminds what it’s like to have a tongue. I don’t take milk, and I don’t take sugar. If I wanted milk or sugar, I would have just asked for some milk with some sugar in it. Today is Tuesday, which is good because this is the day the post comes. When the post comes, I’ll greet the postman with a cheery “Hello!” which I am sure he’ll like because it can be lonely round these parts. I’ll invite him in for a biscuit and a hot drink. He’ll say “Oh no thanks, better be gettin’ on”. I’ll insist, he’ll concede “Go on then, just a quick’un”. I’ll bring him in, set him down, pack of custard creams, get his memory going, remind him of her, he will’ve clocked it by now. “Don’t see many o’—” bring in the teapot, glass bottle to the back of the head, he’ll like that, remind him of what it’s like to be alive.