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One twelve
The refrigerator opens
White light
Across half the floor
A pear
Behind the bottle of water
Cold enough
To leave a mark in my hand
The tap runs low
One drop
Travels down my wrist
I turn the fruit
Under the water
Green
Then pale
Then green again
The refrigerator
Closes by itself
The floor goes dark
Knife on the board
Knife on the board
Once
Then twice
A thin piece of skin
Stays attached
I leave it there
The center is almost white
The seeds
Darker than I expected
One piece
Near the edge of the plate
Two beside it
One turned sideways
No pattern
I move the smallest one
Then put it back
Outside
A car crosses the intersection
The sound arrives late
The kitchen clock
Changes to one sixteen
Nothing in here
Changes with it
I eat one piece
Standing up
Cold water
Still on my thumb
The quietest things
Still have a temperature
The knife
The plate
Three seeds
A wet line
Beside the sink
The compressor starts again
Low
Then steady
The next slice
Is thinner
Almost transparent
At the edge
The peel curls once
Against the plate
I can hear someone
Walking upstairs
Four steps
A pause
Two more
Then nothing
One twenty-three
The fruit is warmer now
Not warm
Just less cold
The plate has moved
Closer to the sink
I don’t remember moving it
Maybe small things
Change first
One piece left
Too small
For the fork
I pick it up
With two fingers
The clock changes again
The refrigerator stops
The room
Becomes larger for a second
The plate under the tap
Water circles
One seed
Then carries it
Toward the drain
I catch it
Before it disappears
No reason
Just did
One twenty-eight
One twenty-eight
One twenty-eight
One twenty-eight
The refrigerator opens once more
The plate goes inside
The door closes
White light
Narrows to a line
Then disappears
The floor goes dark again
