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Eating In

By Sarah M. Balcomb

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He stands stirring by the stove while I watch things from my chair, a neglected book open on my lap. A cabinet ajar reveals commingling coffee mugs and the variegated line of his vitamin bottles. Actual size of B-complex sketched on side like a chalk outline in reverse, black on white. I wonder whether anything in there was once alive.

Then the rotten tomato extracted from the sauce with a wooden spoon singed on one side. It is hard, greenish, a patch of yellow, with some sort of stem still attached. As he offers up evidence, I pretend not to look, feigning distaste. I meant to say something funny about quality control. What I say is it will stink up the trash later, vegetables are real culprits that way.

Does it matter who takes out the trash? It’s a man’s job, I always say, then do it anyway.

Later, sorting recyclables, on the side of the bottle that held the sauce: product enlarged to show texture. I check the cabinet, the fridge, for further examples.

Product enlarged to show texture: two.

Product enlarged to show detail: three.

Lies: four.

I prefer the word “enhanced.” Though “augmented” would work here as well.

We circle the black kitchen table marked with colorful strays of paint and a ring of white from a whiter can of gesso left sitting too long. Avoiding eyes in our orbit. When I’m irritable, he’s irritable. We eat out a lot.

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Sarah M. Balcomb is currently pursuing an MFA at Columbia University.
Her work has appeared in 5_Trope, American Journal of Print, Both
Magazine, Dezmin’s Archives, Eyeshot, McSweeney's, Opium Magazine, and
Pindeldyboz. She can be contacted at [email protected].

© 2003 Me Three