Day 340 of 2025
“Fractured Light Between Snow and Supper”
How to prepare a day in two registers
Take one Saturday, still cold from altitude.
Split it lengthwise with a bread knife—
not cleanly, never cleanly.
For the upper portion:
Apply wax in long strokes until the grain shows.
Set aside. Let cool to the temperature of ambition.
For the lower portion:
Braise slowly with wine, with voices,
with the particular gravity of chairs
pulled close to a table.
Season with someone else's laughter.
To assemble:
Do not blend. Press the halves together
and notice the seam—
electric, impolite,
refusing to disappear.
Serves one. Feeds no one.
The leftovers are the whole point.