when time has passed unknowingly
my kitchen reminds me it has
Molly tells me where the bread is
below where the plates used to be, before the ants
I remember them, the ants
the ants that infiltrated then infuriated my mom
who caused the first great kitchen migration
I also remember
the first time I opened the empty bread drawer
butter knife in hand
and wondered if the kitchen walls themselves
painted forest green and framed by floral spirals and dark cabinets
would tear apart at the seams
I found myself floating in an abysmal colorless world
trapped between two large slices of bread on a giant dinner plate
then I saw the sliced white bread on the counter
the next time it moved
was because one of the cabinet doors had unhinged
Or was that my dad’s hip?
It doesn’t matter because I was there
for every shift
for every development
for every life-altering change
but now I had no idea
why the bread was below
where the plates used to be
before the ants came
and suddenly I felt like a parent that missed one too many recitals
which made my sandwich taste funny
About the Creator
Fiachra O'
I like writing about thoughts
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