I drizzle honey over yoghurt and imagine that I am Jackson Pollock.
Yesterday’s dessert was a masterpiece, worthy of MoMA, but this looks amateur. I need precision. I need clean lines.
But it’s freezing and my honey has crystallised into thick, sticky globules.
I bet Jackson Pollock could afford heating.
Danny Beusch started writing flash fiction in 2017. Find him on Twitter: @OhDannyBoyShhh.