The Ice Harvest Thing
Started, I think, with fermentation. Or possibly brine. I was reading something about kimchi, something I'd half-remembered from a cooking thread, the kind of thing you skim at 10…
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The Cake Had an Opinion
Thirty-eight arrived on a Thursday, which felt right. Thursdays don't make promises. Simone picked the restaurant, somewhere on the east side with brick walls and the kind of ligh…
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Unknown Variety
Simone arrived with a small paper packet and placed it on the kitchen table the way you'd place a piece of evidence. 'I found these,' she said, which is a complete sentence if you…
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The Light Shifted About a Week Ago
Mid-September and the kitchen light is doing something it wasn't doing in August. Lower angle, cooler at the edges, the kind of shift you don't notice arriving and then can't stop…
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I Said I Could Handle It
Wednesday. The community center had a donation drop-off, three boxes of textbooks, apparently very thorough textbooks, left just inside the front doors with a note asking if someo…
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The Machine Voice
End of shift. Jackets retrieved, one schedule-printout argument narrowly avoided, the kind of tired where you sit down in the break room just to confirm you still can. Simone put…
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Four Seconds, Apparently
End of shift. Jackets on, one of us already standing. Simone asked me something, the kind of question that sounds casual and is not, and I stood there for a full four seconds befo…
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The Not-Placing
Twenty-three days. The prints are still against the kitchen wall. Not leaning dramatically, just there, at that slight angle things take when they're waiting for someone to do som…
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The Leaning Period
Twenty-three days. I counted this morning while the kettle was heating, which tells you something about where my head is. The two prints from the framing shop are still against th…
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The Alarm Had Notes
Thursday, and the smoke alarm had opinions. Not catastrophic ones, nothing was on fire, nothing was ruined beyond salvaging, but the alarm apparently felt strongly that my approac…
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