Day four of proper Christmas.
Days of the week are long forgotten to history.
Food is no longer served in meals; just a constant plate of 'a few bits' every 20 mins.
It is both too early and too late to have alcohol.
You're not sure you can walk further than 5 metres unaided

A cheeseboard appears. No one knows where from. You don't question it. You only had what you thought was lunch 10 minutes ago.

Glass of wine? Sure you were having a beer. You now have both.

A cheeseboard appears.

The toffee coins are now legitimate currency. You're not sure if you still like mince pies but eat another three while wondering.

Can you remember 'outside'?

Another plate of a few bits.

You're tetchy with anyone around you but not entirely sure why.

A cheeseboard appears.

People are coming round. Who? No one knows. But they're coming.

Butter is now paté.

Mini scotch eggs tremble at your hand.

Baileys is milk.

A cheeseboard appears.

Do you want anything from the kitchen? But you've already got everything. You are the kitchen.

What time shall we have dinner? We already have and shall again in an hour.

Your glass is full again.

A cheeseboard appears.

You rest. The TV rocks you to a light snooze. At last. Peace. Rest. You sleep.

You awake stood in the kitchen as the words "yeah go on then" leave your mouth.

Look down. You have a plate of just a few bits.

A cheeseboard appears where you were sat on the sofa.

All remaining food is now 'in blankets'.

Something is in the oven. No one put it there, but it's ready.

Was this your wine? Yes. All of it was and is.

A cheeseboard appears.

Twiglets.

A cheeseboard appears.

You're tired and awake.
You're full and you could just eat a few bits.
You've not heard Slade for 45 minutes but you can hear them.
Does anyone want a drink? You can't remember. You say yes.

A cheeseboard, bigger than before, appears.

You are peckish. You are always peckish.

Just a few bits. They won't leave you alone. The bits. Just a few bits.

Can you open this chutney jar from the funny little man at the market?

Night approaches. But what is day?

A cheeseboard appears.

Do you want cream with that?

It's coffee. The cream is Baileys.

Accept.

A bowl of snacks passes around, never-ending.

Your feet have been inside your slippers since dawn.

A cheeseboard appears.

See you on Sunday. You don't know what that means. What is a Sunday.

Shall we bring anything? Just a few bits. That's all anyone knows now. A few bits.

We might bring a cheeseboard.

But the cheeseboard board has already appeared.

Oooh. A little bit of the bubbly.

Where's the cheeseboard? It's gone. Is that it? Is the chee-

A cheeseboard appears.

Is that your cousin? You don't know. He hands you a bottle of wine. You embrace.

You smile.

Lovely to see you. You mean the wine.

A cheeseboard appears.

Would you like a bellini. You don't know if that's a food or a cocktail. You say yes.

You get a wine and just a few bits for either scenario.

Maybe have a bit of che-
A cheeseboard appears.

You nibble at the morsels in front of you. Small tasty treats.

Pie. Cheese.

They're plastic.

It's Trivial Pursuit. You've been playing since 6pm.

Time is meaningless.

A cheeseboard appears.

Gout?

A cheeseboard appears.

You are the cheeseboard.

You empty the bin. The waste clatters it's way down. You have no idea when someone will take this away. If ever. If anyone even exists.

You now have a Baileys. You didn't ask for this.

A cheeseboard appears.

Bed.

You lay. The room slightly spins.

It's OK. It's the end of the day.

You settle into comfort.

Your pillow a cheeseboard.

Cheese nightmares appear.

Morning.

It's Friday.

Breakfast is approached with wanton abandon. A lebkuchen. A slice of cake. Some ham. Just a few bits.

The bits will never end.

It's Saturday.

A cheeseboard appears.

The phone rings.

They say they will be with you in an hour.

You're not entirely sure who They are. But you've got some bits They could have. Just a few bits.

Some pork pie left. And some leftovers.

A cheeseboard appears.

You sit up. The thought flashes across your mind.

There is another ham.

Again.

It's OK. It'll go on a plate. With a few bits. Just a few bits.

A cheeseboard appears.

Look down. The rug under your feet rustles. It's Quality Street wrappers.

You cannot see the floor.

Get back on the sofa. It's safe. You can just about reach your drink. It's all the drinks you want.

A cheeseboard appears.

The mood shifts.

What are you doing for New Years?

What ARE you doing for New Years?

What are you doing?

Few people are coming over.

For a few bits.

A cheeseboard will appear.

Open your eyes.

What now. You don't know. This is peak wilderness.

Maybe you'll go for a walk. Whatever that means.

A lone bar of Galaxy chocolate is, for some reason, on the stairs up to your old bedroom.

Maybe later you could have a meal of cold cuts. And a cheeseboard.

Your bucks fizz tastes odd.

There's no fizz.

Why is there no fizz in the bucks fi-

It's just orange juice.

Open the fridge. There's still cheese. There's always chee-

A cheeseboard appears.

You are at a loss.

Tired without having done anything.

The steady flow of consumption is still at a level of foolhardiness.

You bin is just cardboard and glass bottles.

Your body needs a break from excess.

In three days.

A cheeseboard appears.

A cheeseboard appears.

Good Christmas? Aye fine ta. Yours. Yeah good cheers. Great.

Anyway, better get on. Got to get a few...bits.

Got people coming over tomorrow. Again. Need to restock the fridge.

A reduced cheeseboard appears.

Salads.
Water.
Exercise.

These are the three demons you have slain this past week.

You are but a husk.

Have a grape with your cheeseboard that appears. That's fruit. That counts.

Should we bring anything.

No it's fine. I'm doing a few bits.

Please let us bring something. Please. My cupboards need the room.

There's three different boxes of biscuits here.

I'll bring some cheese.

You've decided to have a drink already.

They won't be with you until 8. You'll have had a bottle by then and the numbing joy it brings.

Midnight will be a blur.

What goes well with this wine? A bit of cheese. Just a bit, not an ent-

A cheeseboard appears.

New Year.

New you.

But....

A cheeseboard, the one to end them all, appears.

The End.