The window is left open
as the water boils.
Pasta, the fourth day in a row, is placed
into the pot and stirred. Various spices are dumped in.
An attempt to provide a meal instead of a full stomach.
It’s eventually drained, rinsed, covered
in the last remnants of a jar of red sauce, half of it water.
It’s eaten in haste
even though it’s not going anywhere. The television
provides the four minutes of sound required to act as company
during the meal. It’s turned off and the bowl is rinsed in the sink,
a sponge that needs replacing wipes away the red smudges,
the bowl eventually placed upside down on the drying mat.
One adventure down and the day is still ticking away.
Dan Leicht, a writer from Rochester NY, often writes poetry as well as fiction, which can be found on his author site. His poetry has previously been published with Canto Magazine and Work Literary Magazine.