'Have you ever heard a friend’s work voice for the first time?' he asks. The question throws me back to cusp-of-30; Friends who talk system integrations and M&A deals while lamenting how quick the weekend goes That manager at Barcelona Wine Bar whose may-I-take-your-reservation voice rang an octave higher; saccharine sweet. Back to social circle rifts à la Hathaway v. Posse in Devil Wears Prada I never found the corporate ladder. In my early 20s, I was voice acting on morning radio: A housewife who drove her kids home from soccer practice post-two glasses of wine A fiancée upset by the size of her engagement ring I almost gave myself away because I know nothing about carrots Now I dice rainbow bunches and stalks of celery that I throw into a cocotte alongside dried mushrooms, tomato paste and scraps of onion thyme, rosemary, bay leaves This: my mark of adulthood, that I know what a dutch oven is, find homemade stock superior to store bought and write in a way that affects carelessness in a way I couldn’t when I was actually carefree
In Memory Of Gabe Hudson, who made me feel so seen in my joy at discovering the work of Grace Paley and left us far too soon. I always think of his words: ’Why do we call short stories ‘short’ when they are prose miracles that haunt you to yr grave?’
A special thank you to
for inspiring this poem with “The Masks of Adulthood.”
"I almost gave myself away because I know nothing about carrots." This line is a lead, Alicia. Use it again as an opening line for a short story. Beautiful!
"...my mark of adulthood, [is] that I know what a dutch oven is..." Another brilliant lead line! It instantly made me ponder the mark of my own adulthood. At my advanced age, I should know the answer to the question, but I don't... yet.
Very beautifully written, Alicia -- as always . What's a dutch oven when it's at home?