You are having a bad day so you head to the kitchen. To cook, not to eat. To build something nourishing from your hands. And it gets better as you go, it really does.
Vegetables chopped, tossed in oil and spices. Into the oven, done.
Steak patted dry, rubbed with oil and salt. Seared on the stovetop, then into the oven, done.
Onions and garlic and rice, steamed on the stovetop, done.
Noodles and butter and spices, cooked on the stovetop, done.
Apples sliced thinly, topped with spices and oats. Into the oven,
cooking
(while)
wine is poured into thin-lipped glasses. Your daughter holds up her own cup of cherry juice.
Cheers! she says and you oblige. Four glasses clink together. Wishes for a happy birthday, a happy new year.
Eat.
And then a timer goes off: done! Pull the apple crisp from the oven and bring it to the table. The steam curls and blurs the smile on your face. The apples melt on your tongue, your bad day forgotten.
Things gets better, yes. Sweeter, too.
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