The smile that says, ‘there is nothing and nowhere but this and here.’
There’s nothing like seeing everything lost in darkness but a sharp set of knives.
We stretched the dough with our knuckles, just like they taught us, between loud gulps of wine. The stemware was in a floury haze.
The cooks who work the day shift, they stack the pans up in the window and lock the doors when the sun gets hot.