The kitchen was eighty degrees
by Xevson
· 04/02/2026
Published 04/02/2026 08:46
The kitchen was eighty degrees
because the oven was on for the roast.
My uncle’s face turned the color
of a bruised plum.
I saw him reach under the table,
fiddling with the nylon straps
where the skin meets the machine.
That beige plastic foot
poked out of his polished leather shoe,
stiff and unbothered by the heat.