Poor Man's Meal

I eat off a plate piled high with baked potato, some indiscernible cabbage and a few baked beans.  There is a stack of three closed tins covered in a strange pattern reminiscent of the fabric design of London Tube seats. They are like a small pillar of precious metal looming out of this mound of too much potato.

The Important Message

I have organised a party and in Polish tradition we are each to name a cause for us all to toast. The hall grows to accommodate perhaps 250 people. Music plays and one by one each person offers their particular blessing into the mike. 

I have a short text in my notebook that I want to read.  It is the reason I assembled everyone in the first place, so I am desperate and excited for my turn to arrive. 

I ask for the deafening William Tell overture to be turned down. The audience continues chattering loudly.

"PLEASE...LISTEN," I beg them, "this is such an important message." 

And I turn to my book to find the passage, but of course the page is missing. 

High Speed Sailing

A friend and I are on a massive sailing contraption, hurtling towards the Thames barrier. It slows down just at the last minute and then swings round heading back so fast that the scenery disappears into a blur. The speed is exhilerating. When we come to a stop I calculate that we covered a mile every 1.25 seconds. A passenger from a previous ride is being hoisted by a body harness having broken his leg from the pressure.

Sophisticated Stones

These stones talk giving instructions.
These stones wipe themselves clean.
These stones correct the work after a cack-handed child has left too clumsy an image on them.