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Cold War

by Julie Milo

She lurks in the kitchen
Pots clanging pans
Lids slam.
Water on the stove
Begins to heat
Waiting for spaghetti.
Steam rises from the pot, her head
Heat rising, temper blazing.

He walks through the door
Saying hello
To no response
He tries again
Do you need help with dinner?
No
A plate crashing on tiles bounces
But doesn't break.

He shrugs to her back
She never turns around.
Never faces him.
Never speaks.

He just watches
As the pasta burns.