What’s Cookin’

Hmm, the smell of turkey roasting in the oven when coming in from the dry cold. Potatoes, roasted in garlic with browned, crispy skin. The ambient background noise of non-distinguishable chatting and laughter. Most members of the party have similar visceral memories of the holidays, thoughts of loved ones now likely no longer with us, images still held near.

Staring at the lifeless remains of a convenience from the old world jolts forward those suppressed memories. Like an inconsequential jab at the buried remains of what humanity in me still exists. Dust carried on a howling wind flooding through broken windows dismisses any nostalgia. The particles stinging my eyes, jerking me back to the project in my hands; how to open this can of beans that expired 4 years ago.