Note: For this flash fiction my current main character stepped forward to share his opinion. Nix is a shape-shifting phoenix and immortal.
Plastic. A disgusting invention to come out of the 20th Century and explode in popularity. Sure, it provided convenience – quick storage, cheap, kept food from bugs. Fresh? Debatable. All plastics leaked an odour beyond human senses. Left subtle traces on everything it touched. Revolting as tap water.
Glass, a much better material. Melted, moulded sand. Smoother on the lips. Food tasted better. They called him paranoid. “Get with the times.” No escaping the human-made pollution.
Nix pushed the plastic aside, bundled, ready to be returned to its owner. On the other side of the bench, his comrade’s briefcase. Leather, the ancient fabric of foulness.