The day before his wife chained the cabinets shut to speed up his job search, he arrived home with the vintage dinnerware. The same pattern of bald eagles and stars and stripes had once lured him to these shores, lodged inside his heart. He did not notice the cracks in the glazing, but she did, deeming them unsafe for the roast they could no longer afford. Only on that first night years later, when the world came off its hinges, did he serve himself room-temperature hot dogs on a single unwashed plate and taste what almost passed for freedom.
---
First published in Ellipsis Zine Ten in November 2021.
No comments:
Post a Comment