Past the Date

The carton felt light in the door

so I gave it a shake for the sound.

I poured a bowl of the cheap stuff

while the silence gathered around.

Then the smell hit me—

sharp, vinegar-edged, and mean.

A sour turn in the plastic

where the white used to be clean.

I watched it glug into the drain,

a heavy spiral of wasted time.

Even the basic things in this house

are committing a quiet crime.