The fridge is a cavern of white plastic

The fridge is a cavern of white plastic

and a jar of pickles with no pickles left.

I found a bag in the junk drawer,

crushed shards of sourdough

and enough salt to make my tongue sting.

I licked the plastic clean.

The tuna can is in the sink,

shining like a mirror in the dark.

I scraped the edges with a butter knife

until the metal groaned.

The light stays on even when the door is shut.

I can see it through the crack in the seal,

burning through a dollar’s worth of power

while I wait for the sun to come up.