The Kitchen

Writing Date: Monday, July 31st, 2017
Writing Time: 8:34am
Timed Writing: 5 minutes (no edits!)
“When I came into the kitchen in the morning” is a writing dip selected from “In West Kerry” by J.M. Synge

When I came into the kitchen in the morning, I had a kitchen to come into. This was miraculous because yesterday I did not, or at least not a kitchen of this caliber, this taste, this expense. As I came into this kitchen I was aware of it as a room with food of course because that’s what I was searching for, but more I was aware of this room as a place of longing and of hard work. The owner of this particular kitchen deeply longed and worked so very hard to call it her own. She thought about it daily before it was born, as she drove to a job that tested her spirit of humanity most days. And the kitchen, miraculously it rewarded her much like she thought it would. Part of her was always worried the kitchen wouldn’t live up to the vision she had of it, that it wouldn’t mean all that it needed to mean when it arrived, because it had to mean so much. For one, it had to answer the why to working each and all days, but yes, bizarrely this kitchen did mean all this to her, and yes, it did answer why she had to work so very hard. As I stood on the cool tiles, some black, some white, and looked at the pretty glass-faced cupboards, I could feel her pride all around me and instead of turning away from it and laughing at its absurdity like I would have yesterday, I let the pride hit me from all angles. I let it sear right through my skin, right through to the insides.

 

 

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