Rupert struggled with the lid,
just as he struggled with most things.
Inside, the walnuts seemed to be taunting him,
sloshing in black juice
like rotten asteroids.
'Just a tick!' he told the firing squad,
over-friendly, desperation creeping
into his voice as he grabbed a swatch
of his t-shirt and tried again,
veins standing out on his forehead,
brown teeth bared like a palisade.