121 - Homemade Recipe

I got home from work, locked the door, and took everything out. No audience, no reason. Just me and the kitchen. I turned on the stove. I grabbed the ingredients. And I stood there, naked, moving between the counter and the stove—my skin feeling the heat that wasn't just coming from the pots. The food was getting ready. So was I. At some point, I picked up my phone. Not to show the dinner. To record the rest. My sweaty body, the way I bent over to pick things up, my hand going down as the water boiled. It was quick. It was good. It was mine.

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