When first poured, the cereal had been
the same color as the old kitchen table;
speckled and burnt gold.
The milk had been added five minuets ago.
She sat and watched the corn flakes
slowly sink and mesh together in the bowl.
It was amazing how she could see this
transition, from where she was sitting.
After placing down the simple breakfast,
she had thought about sitting in a chair.
She thought otherwise when almost
simultaneously, the kettle began to sound.
When the cup of tea was poured and honey
added, she retreated to the linoleum countertop.
The hot drink too, matched the table.
It was all crimson and brown now. The tea bag was
left in the cup. Over steeped, in the clear glass mug.
It sat just beside her fists, which were balled up,
at her side, as she crouched like an animal.
For a moment, she thought to throw the
contents of the bowl away. The tea too, it had
fallen to room temperature, by now.
In the distance, she could hear the boxed
air conditioner switch on. Humming.
It wasn't even hot out. It hadn't been for months.
She just couldn't life the darn thing
out of the window, which was ow also open at the top.
Within minuets, the small kitchen had grown cold.
Rocking back and fourth on her heels and toes,
she held her knees a little tighter.
The manufactured air was still sounding.