There were two rashers of bacon left in the fridge. Two gorgeous, juicy, organic rashers of bacon. All day I was looking forward to the world's greatest ever Bacon Sandwich.
On my way home I picked up a beautiful loaf of bread.
I prepared everything: mustard on one slice, mayonnaise on the other. Lettuce, cucumber, radish...
I started frying. Oh, it looks juicy, I thought. It looks good. Mmmm, smells so good, too.
Just another moment on each side - it's going to be crispy-tastic.
Then, to finish off the frying, I needed to flip the bacon. But I decided not to use a fork, or a spatula. I flipped it like you'd flip a pancake.
A moment of arrogance.
Eternal regret.
In that moment, the rashers slipped off down the back of the oven like frightened eels. One after the other, they went.
A split-second. That's all it took. The last bacon was gone forever.
I hung my head, too sad to cry out.
It was smoked salmon for dinner.
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