Text A: an original contemporary personal-commentary-style practice extract.

By the time I reach the supermarket, my shopping list rarely looks respectable. It has been folded into my pocket, softened by the rain and marked with whatever was on the kitchen table. Last week, the word “rice” appeared beneath a circular tea stain. None of this prevented me from reading it.

A paper list waits on the fridge where everyone can see it. Someone notices that the toothpaste is nearly finished and adds it; someone else draws a line through biscuits after finding an unopened packet. Before leaving, I arrange the items in the order I expect to find them. The list becomes a small map through the shop, and each crossing-out shows that I am getting closer to the end.

Of course, paper cannot remind me that I have left it at home. I have wandered between shelves trying to reconstruct a list from memory. Even so, I prefer an object with one simple purpose. It does not light up with another message while I am deciding between two sizes of tin. Other people can organise their shopping on a screen. I will keep the folded square that asks for my attention only when I choose to unfold it.

Text B: an original contemporary personal-commentary-style practice extract.

My neat paper list was still attached to the fridge when I arrived at the supermarket. I could remember bread and oranges, but the remaining items had vanished from my mind. I returned with a full bag and discovered that I had forgotten the one thing needed for that evening’s meal.

Since then, I have used a shared list on my phone. It travels with me instead of waiting in the kitchen. If somebody uses the last of the milk while I am on my way to the shop, the new item appears before I reach the dairy aisle. We no longer have to predict every need before one person leaves the house. The list can change because the household changes.

A phone can certainly create its own interruptions. At first, I checked every notification and spent longer staring at the screen than looking at the shelves. Now I silence alerts and open only the list. Used this way, the phone is not a noisy entertainment centre but a pocket noticeboard. I understand why some shoppers prefer a pencil and a scrap of paper. For me, however, the most useful list is not the tidiest one: it is the one that arrives at the shop and can still be updated when I do.