A River Of Stones: Stone Number Twelve

Onions sizzle in the hot oil. Cream coloured and glistening against the black cast-iron. The smell transports me. My Nan's kitchen. Bonfire Night. The 1980's. A crisp, shiny, brown sausage in a Hot-Dog bun (buttered because Nan said that the rolls were too dry without!) and the soft, browny onions being piled on top and then anointed with stripes of Heinz Ketchup and American too-yellow mustard.