Bokelskere.no

"There isn't anything I want to recycle."
"Just one thing, Ren, and then I'll leave you alone."
We stare at each other, his hand palm up and his face open and expectant. I feel like a child given one of those utterly shit choices parents offer to trick the child into thinking it has a say in anything: "Do you want to record that thank-you vid for aunt Jasmine now or after dinner?"
"Just one," he repeats.
"Oh for fuck's sake!" I say and twist around to slap the door sensor.
Is there something here I can sacrifice in return for sleep and peace?
As always, a couple of items slip down when the door opens. One is a chunk of pink crystal, the other a deformed fork.
"What about that?" Sung-Soo points at the fork and I clench it tighter in my fist.
"I need this."
"Need it? Don't you have a fork that would actually work? No one would use that."
It has three prongs and they all point in different directions. The steel is scratched and dull. "I'm going to fix it."
"When?"
"When I get a minute."