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As She Leaves the Kitchen | Fixional - Journal Archive
“What took you so long?” she asks. I step out of my car, hold up my cell phone. “No battery or charger. Bad accident on 65.” “Do you need me to fix you something to eat?” “No. I had a big breakfast.” A big breakfast of seltzer and Excedrin. Last night’s scotch still sloshes in my stomach from too many flights of tasters with friends, an evening that started so clear but blurred fast. Glimpses of a kitchen remodel, belly button rings, and softball scars keep sneaking into my brain before disappearing again. (Clearly moments from a deeply intellectual conversation.)