Fetish

Pistachio has been relegated to a dank dark corner in my mother's kitchen, complete with old crummy baby shit green coloured towel covering its curves and sheen. Sometimes I go to the corner, lift up the towel, give it a good 'ol rub and apologise for the humiliation it has been subjected to.

Most days I fantasize about taking it to bed with me, so I can give it a cuddle and rub and tuck it in good night.