salsa mess

The bottle slipped when I was putting it back in the fridge. The mess has been sitting there all afternoon.

I keep going off and sitting in the sunporch and forgetting about it. And as soon as I wander back out to the kitchen, there it is. The immutable fact of salsa.

I open the refrigerator and get a drink of milk, then close the fridge and stare down at the floor.

I know the mess can’t stay there and yet I can’t bring myself to clean it up. I become mesmerized by the intersecting lines of the hardwood floor. It’s like a mental crime scene. I’ve taken photos from several angles.

The past year has been spent waiting for a cue that never comes.

I need somebody to tell me that none of this is real.

6 thoughts on “salsa mess

  1. At least salsa is a fun word to say.
    Elongated accent on the A in the 1st syllable.

    The salsa IS indeed real.

    But that is only my perception
    and I like the word, so I’m biased. Right?

    What would the cue suggest if it came?
    Are you sure that it hasn’t?

  2. At least salsa is a fun word to say.
    Elongated accent on the A in the 1st syllable.

    The salsa IS indeed real.

    But that is only my perception
    and I like the word, so I’m biased. Right?

    What would the cue suggest if it came?
    Are you sure that it hasn’t?

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