Lessons

Project seed. Map of something I'd like to do.

The Cardinals versus the Jets. The Jets would win by one point in the fourth quarter. I don't know why I knew that. My father didn't. He sat at the kitchen table hunched over what was left of the night's meal. Pork. I decided that I was hungry enough to eat, and began to loop around the kitchen picking my meal.

I poured myself some water - no ice.

My sisters came tumbling down the staircase, one latched onto the other's shoulder like the primates that satchel their young to their backs and end up on the cover of National Geographic. 

She prowled up to the refrigerator before me to get some ice. I walked up behind her, quietly. Impatient, I held my cup of iceless water over her foot. It dripped onto her foot, but it was subtle. 

She didn't notice. 

I checked my phone again. Still no reply. 

I looked for salt and found none. I decided this was a smart play by the universe. I had been eating salted meats for weeks now without noticing. Maybe not today.

I brought the ice water to my mouth. As I exhaled I saw the frost steam and cling to the air. There was something in the moment I couldn't catch. A beauty that skirted around my fingertips but I never felt. A tiny mayfly that remained elusive to my touch.

My phone buzzed. I starred at the screen indignantly. I had tried to explain the difference between a girl and a women, like there is between a boy and a man. She called me melodramatic. I texted back, and wait.

I rushingly cut away the bone from my meat over the trashcan. I decided the hungry in Africa would forgive me just this once and I scrapped it all. I cleaned my dishes and walked from the room. 

My father, who cooked a meal for his family every weekend ate alone again.