From: Like Water for Chocolate
Gloria looked at the instructions for the soup again. Bewildered, she pulled out a white onion and placed it on the cutting board. Her friend, Marcy, had said that it would seem ludicrous at times, but that the 12 step program for moving on really worked. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the knife and began to slice rings off the side of the onion. She felt the familiar sting in her eyes. Rinsing her hands, she wiped her eyes with a tissues. The tears were her least favorite part of cooking with onions.
She approached the lopsided onion on the cutting board and went back to work. The onion was particularly pungent. A few moments later, she pulled the sleeve of her shirt across her eyes to try to clear out the tears that had begun to well up. It was to no avail. Tears sprang up before she'd put her arm back down. Sniffling she went back to work on the onion.
Water streamed down her face as she methodically lifted the knife up only to push it back down. She twisted the onion as she had twisted the truth of why he had left her. The tears began to flow faster and her nose had started dripping. Quickly she rinsed her hands and walked across the room to the box of tissues. Picking up the box, she returned to the kitchen counter.
Marcy called forty-five minutes later. "Hello?" Gloria said through her sniffles from her spot on the floor.
"Gloria??? Are you okay? What are you doing?" Marcy asked, concern filling the long space that followed.
"I'm fine. I'm making the soup for tonight's meeting," she sniffled again, standing on her own two feet.
Marcy, full of understanding, nodded on the other end of the line. "And how is it going?" she inquired.
"Oh, about as well as anyone can expect I guess." Gloria picked up the half diced onion and threw it into the pot. "No one actually eats the soup, right?"
*** Daily Writing Practice ***
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