#87 - Food
They call it grace, that suspended moment where time stands still and your cat
walks back into the living room after being gone for twenty years.
In that time, you pick up the cat. The kettle boils over.
The oven beeps and beeps and beeps.
Nothing burns.
Your ex stands in the doorway telling you that the
baked stuffed shells can wait, they’re mostly cheese anyway.
He’s always hated cheese (especially ricotta).
Smiling, you turn back the clock. Watch him disappear. Remove the shells
from the oven – blackened now, but still edible.