little story of a kitchen, part II
the window slowly acquires a certain thickness, a mixture of the darkening air outside and the vapour from the boiling pot of water. blue flames like a cupped hand, buzzing steadily. she takes a soft sheet of pastry and plops it in the water, patting its floating curve with the back of a wooden spoon. then another. her feet aching and rubbery, she becomes suddenly aware of her own pathos, the pathos of a 52 year old housewife. this makes her smile somehow, as though she finds comfort in the absurdity of labelling her own person.
(the small dialogue that took place that fateful day occurred around the hour of six, and in fact consisted only in a single impulsive exclamation directed at the gas-lighter. filled with grease and humidity, it had finally decided to stop working, so that the usual ritual of banging the battery head on the bench proved, despite extensive efforts, unsuccessful. ‘ma porca zozza!’, was the aforementioned cry, which perhaps requires no translation.)
years earlier, her husband had been rubbing the grease off a pair of work boots. he had looked at his wife, who was contemplating an old coffee stain near the sink. he had managed to muster together a last string of words, perhaps his most poetic: “you’re too fuckin heavy”. later that night he had walked out of the house with his last flask of home made wine. he had never returned.
she rearranges the faded postcards on the fridge door and folds her apron carefully. she puts her last dinner out on the tiny wooden table between the cupboard and the storage cabinet, on a white tablecloth, embroidered. (two ceramic bowls and two glazed cups). she listens, finally, to the imperceptible sounds of her kitchen; the creaking and weighing and humming of it. for the first time in what seems like years, she leaves this minuscule space (where she would listen to the flow of his veins, where she would –at times with a desperate resignation- look for noise in silence) knowing that it would also be the last.
there is a knock at the door. it’s time.
5 comments:
Where are parts I and III.
part I is a bit further down,in the month of may, but unfortunately it's in eye-talian and almost completely unrelated to part II. part three will probably be in turkish and will not be coming out for a while i think.
any suggestions about part III?
CECIO, COME MAI PARLI PERFETTAMENTE ITALIANO E ROMANO-ITALIANO??no comprendo dear!sono curiosissimaa...ciao PASTA e cecio!
..e anche inglese!
jackie: e' una storia lunga, magari un giorno te la racconto, but as a prieview, it involves some sort of alien abduction at the tender age of eight.
matan: lui e' l'uomo pragmatico, who is squashed under the weight of the other's existence, so different from his own. pero' non e' da giudicare, e' solo che non ce la fa, poveretto!
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