Those printed words in an earmarked book asked for strawberry jam. With a single step I was drawn back, yes, strawberry jam. Well, I may have some. Doubtfully, I skimmed the shelves in the fridge in search of the telltale white and red, for a moment spotting my Wally before recognising the sleeve of a cheddar peering back at me. Onward, looking deeper into the deep clean territory where the cooling wind blew with a fervour. I release an involuntary gasp of disgust, eyes caught on the moulding fluff of a dish I can no longer recall. Soon a depressing mound of waste towered alongside the fridge door slowly collecting driplets of spoiled condensation as they watched me strip the fridge of expired dates and trust issues. The faithful light glimmered anew, shining across freshly spritzed surfaces, now vacant and startlingly white. A sudden beep from the door pulled…
This one I just let go. It was about jam, but then the fridge need to be cleaned and after the fridge was cleaned it was going to go somewhere else entirely and just forget about the jam.
There are a few things I'll be more mindful of - “I release an involuntary gasp”, this is really common so next time I need to write something like this I'm going to pause and think of a different way to say it before continuing on.