Bitter Roots

Where the paint begins to dry is where they decided to look.
Behind the refrigerator in the corner that is stained from years of oxidation is where they began the story. Lead written words and lipstick drawings. The stopwatch is running, the chicken is in the oven.
Where should we begin was the first question of the visitors. The next was who should leave first. They grouped around the table during the dead of winter.
One is in the kitchen reading from the wall.
One translates and documents the unfolding story onto a roll of arches rag paper.
After time the translation begins to reveal itself. In time what was lost will begin the new narrative.