a kitchen-esque evening.

A pink box bouncing from edge to edge inside a television. A live-streamed funeral on an iPhone, soft-singing voices on low volume. Onion sizzling in a brand-new pan, the flourishing of steak in a bloom of hot oil. Cooked flesh. Kitchen noises, kitchen smells. A beeping microwave fighting the funeral rhythms leaking through iPhone speakers. Onion tears.

A sleeping dog curled up in a too-small bed.

Heavy rain, matching wind and the darkness of a stormy twilight settling into night. Beside the thunder, beneath the events of the kitchen. Rain pounding and pounding like it had always poured. Angelic singing melting into a sad piano ballad as the sizzling disappears into a tangy, stir-fried smell. The dog coughs and a back is cracked. Onion tears go as funeral ones flow.

A kitchen-esque evening.


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