Eating Pasta

When she had gone I realized I had begun eating the Pasta she had made for me.

My anger had subsided. I didn’t mind that she was gone. I wasn’t bitter either but her last set of growls didn’t let me miss her. It was green and smelt spicy. I would have bowed low to smell it, get a whiff of what lay in store for the future but my nose was blocked. It was green and some untraceable thread of memory I followed told it was spicy. I began to salivate as the green threads in the worn old bowl stared back at me.

I looked for cheese before I had a taste, it always went well with home made pasta. It made the tongue stabbing nature of the pasta a little more blunt. Like a mug of a cold water to a scalding bath in summer. Before I could open the fridge door I remembered I hadn’t felt sufficiently wealthy to go out and buy it that week. I opened it anyway. I liked out comforting the clean organized shelves looked. There wasn’t much in it and I closed closed the door once the cool air had chilled my feet.

It was as I imagined spicy. I would have liked cheese, but I didn’t need it. When I put away the bowl I realized I didn’t remember what I was doing while I ate. I pushed my tongue back to the roof of my mouth and remembered that yes it was quite good. The yellow pasta and green sauce didn’t look extraordinary. But I remembered the taste even when I stopped listening to the lingering echos with my tongue.

It tasted yellow and green I said to myself later. I don’t know why but that sounds like a great description. I drank some Kashai later that I didn’t realize was made from milk powder and not milk. I remembered how the big milk powder companies had told mothers in the third world that milk powder was better than milk and caused malnutrition for million. They apologized but were never punished I recalled as I distractedly tried to reach a mound of undissolved milk powder at the bottom of the glass. I didn’t recognize the difference between normal Kashai and this one but I wish I had a more natural successor to the last taste that I had known. Something more yellow and green.

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