Once there was an idea to make food. A pan was taken and a dark green plastic mixing bowl. Broken-up bits of cooking chocolate were added to the bowl and the pan was put on low heat. Blue flames licked the edges. What was forgotten was water. Whoever wanted water. Water to eat? No. The butter and sugar of the chocolate melted into the dark green of the plastic and that plastic became fluid and congealed into geological pools, hardened kind of bubbles in the silver pan. Black, acrid crackles. The scent was caramel and cancerous. This could not be edible.
Nor could the labour of scraping such a biohazard off the pan be edible.
The kitchen was evergreen and giving, until it couldn’t be.
There was something missing.
What was edible about listening for her car to pull up the drive, the lights to flash up, a heart leap, she’s home?
Evergreen, no, indelible.
Sweet, sweet.
mariaology 