Chinese Takeaways

Minidiscs in a carrier bag, closed book pages, online delivery reviews, lost log ins and knotweeds of telephone chargers. 

Bosh. The Chinese restaurant’s sign is fading to nothing.

Tastes haven’t changed. We love a Chinese. 


Ordering went from shouting numbers to politely interrupting a student from their books. 

A crisp packet that flew out the car, wedding shoes, milk teeth, a sports day gold medal, bags for life and a puff of dandelion clocks.

They can’t find the owners of the Chinese Takeaway to sell or knock the building down. The owners’ kids got degrees. 

There will always be a Chinese Takeaway here, it’s just never going to be open. Bricks and mortar. Monosodium red and yellow washed out.

Chinese was the takeaway. Noodles or chips? I tried to order a chow mein in Shanghai and they just laughed.


Long division and times tables, soggy Sunday league sidelines, church halls, 3pm school gates, sitting at the foot of a bed, lifts, love, time and attention.


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