10 Things That Never Happened (Material World #1)

by Alexis Hall

I’m sure there is, somewhere in the world, a man who drives a BMW and is not a bellend but I’ve not met him. The thing about a Beamer is that it’s the car you get if you really want to be driving a full-on-midlife-crisis-cock-on-wheels but you’re too insecure to own it.

Turns out, going to a supermarket is like wiping your arse. You mostly do it alone so you assume everyone does it the same way you do, but there’s actually a surprising amount of variation.

My mam always said you should never cook in a mood because then your mash’ll taste of spite.

He’s got annoyingly nice eyes, actually. Or maybe they just stand out because the rest of him’s such an acquired taste.

He’s not a man whose glass is half empty, he’s a man who wants to know why you’ve given him a glass when he ordered the bottle.

“You’ve come into my life like a beam of very annoying sunshine. You talk so much that I miss it when you’re not. You try to fix things I didn’t even realise were broken. You have a dreadful sense of humour to which I’ve somehow become habituated. You care about people so effortlessly it makes me able to put up with them. And then you kissed me and now I…” He lets his head slip further down into his hands. “…I don’t know how I’m supposed to go the rest of my life without being kissed by you again.”