The Elephant in the Room
A 2-page spread torn from a magazine. A string around the finger. A scarlet letter the appliance wears on my behalf.
30:2. Of all the ratios I calculate in my kitchen--1:2 (rice to water) 1:3 (lentils to chicken broth), it’s the only one that matters. Thirty chest compressions. Two breaths. A stick man demonstrates on a stick woman, in frame after frame. This is what you see before you open my freezer to retrieve ice for your gin and tonic. A 2-page spread torn from a magazine. A string around the finger. A scarlet letter the appliance wears on my behalf.
There is another stick figure there, too. You’ll see him if you go to refill your water glass from the dispenser rather than the tap. He has a too-large smiling head, scribble-scrabble hair, and long, outstretched arms. A caption--painstakingly written in green letters that crouch behind one another--reads: First Grade.
A black square with white-framed edges. A curled “u” caught in the sweep of grey ultrasonic waves. The promise of a stick figure.
Recycling every other Wednesday. 20% off your next purchase of $50 or more. Buy 2, Get 1 Free. Kids Eat Free with Purchase of Adult Entrée.