April 21, 2020

just so

Look at her, that woman easing into the kitchen in flax-hued slippers, moisturized hands
wrapped around a mug printed with an aphorism about friendship. See her untwisting 
a soft bag of wheat bread emblazoned with a golden seal that reads: “Made with 
real honey!” Watch her crack two eggs in a white bowl, whisk them into a cast-iron pan, 
slide everything into a scalloped-edge plate set on a gingham placemat. Isn’t it beautiful? 
Isn’t it just so? Look closer. Notice her tired, nervous eyes. She is worried about someone. 
She is worried about everyone. She is making breakfast to pass the time. She is making
breakfast to stop the spinning. She is making breakfast because the forecast calls for more
of the same. See her gentle the spatula into the sink. See her sink her teeth into her toast. 
See her fork pierce the eggs. See her mouth opening and closing, closing and opening.