Ghosts

by Dolly Alderton

Sweet, smooth tomato soup, sugary round rainbow biscuits, mushy ambrosial custard and jelly. The contents of supermarket baskets are surely evidence that none of us are coping with adulthood all that well.

It was strange, to have all your screens finally fail you. I didn’t know where to get the delicious chemical hit psychologists always warned against – I couldn’t seem to feel it, as much as I clicked. Google wasn’t giving me the content I wanted, neither was Linx. Perhaps this was why Lola was always online shopping and sending everything back, like a retail bulimic – to feel something even for just a second.