A Slice Of Toast

A Slice Of Toast

Harry trod his way down the stairs and into his kitchen. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, at least that’s what his mother had always told him. Cereal or toast? He could never be bothered to do anything else.

Today it was a tough decision. He looked at the boxes of cereal on his shelf; all opened, he had a choice of three. He also had have a loaf of bread left so either was still an option. He’d make himself a cup of coffee. A few sips might make it easier for him to come to some decision.

While he waited for his coffee to brew he idly glanced out of his window. There seemed to be an unusual amount of activity out on the street this morning. One of his neighbours must be up to something – installing this, or uninstalling that. Coffee ready, he had a few sips, reached towards one of the cereal boxes then at the last moment grabbed the loaf instead.

Two slices, butter and marmalade. That would do him fine today. He placed two slices into the toaster slots, depressed the button and......BANG! The windows and the walls kind of imploded!

Harry scratched his head. He’d had a lot of toasters pack up in his day but never quite so.....explosively. But then he heard it; the distinct sound of toast being ejected form a toaster. And there the slices were, perfectly browned but covered in concrete dust.

Shouting outside, something was going on. A man in a hard-hat looked through the hole in his wall. “Are you alright, mate?”

Harry nodded, still totally perplexed. “What happened?” he asked, waving his toast and causing a dust cloud that made them both cough.

“They got the address wrong, mate. Came to the wrong street altogether. We’ll fix it for ya, free of charge, as soon as we’ve demolished the right house.”