Sudden Fiction - How I Keep My Kitchen and History Does This

Ciao, Tutti!

I like "How I Keep My Kitchen" best, so I'll put it first.

But Sam, how was the first week of classes?

How was what?

How I Keep My Kitchen

She knew how I liked to keep my kitchen. She knew how I liked to wrap a rag around my hand and slide it inside the cylindrical cups and smoothly sleek wine glasses, then fold the rag into a triangle and rest it on the washer once a fine layer of dust had tinted its whiteness. She knew how I liked to restack the plates one by one, watching from above with a professor’s eye to make sure everything lined up so it looked like I was holding a single plate. She knew how I liked to set the bowls facing down to look like colorful, glazed hills rolling into the back of the cabinet without the hint of wind or of grass. She knew how I liked to coordinate the direction of the silverware, turning each fork, spoon, and knife to face the left, lying against each other’s backs like a set of curved, silver matches. She knew how I liked to align the handles for all the pots so that they each pointed to the stove next to it, a row of metal and cast-iron fingers paying homage where homage was due. She knew how I liked to keep my oven mitts lined on top of the shelf where all the cookbooks were, watching over the recipes like gargoyles over a cathedral. She knew how I liked to keep my kitchen. That’s how she knew I’ve been seeing another woman.

Fine

And now, as if out of a dream, here comes the second story:

History Does This

It happened right about when the news stations started showing reruns. Some wise guy at CNN figured he could cut costs by showing old footage from the 70’s and hope no one would notice. Soon enough all the major channels were doing it. Somewhere, far away, the current anchors were probably lying on the beach, working up a Los Angeles tan to go with that Hawaii sunburn, while the rest of us were still breathing Pittsburg air, living in downtown Cleveland apartments, and wondering when our brothers would be coming home from Vietnam.

That’s when I started seeing my ex-girlfriend again. It was a significant coincidence that we were both living in Philadelphia now, bumping into each other at a downtown cheese steak stand, both of us lonely and single. What happened next were practiced motions, but after nearly a decade without them it felt just as exciting back when I was a newbie pimple-faced horny freshman at Berkeley. It was like looking through an old collection of elementary school assignments and remembering that I, too, was once a cute little energy mass. At the same time the news reruns started. I should have paid more attention. I missed the message the first time.

Fine

I hope you enjoyed these short pieces. I am still yet to write the story about the Sierra Club guy coming to our door just after we put our dog down, but when that happens I'm sure I'll be making that dark humor piece available to you all.

As I start finding places to submit my pieces, you will notice that they will mysteriously be disappearing from the website. Copyright and everything good like that. The point is, if you feel like reading the first drafts of "A Fascinating Line," "The One Tale From College," "Cliche Central," or "Group Therapy," your days are numbered. But don't forget: these are only rough drafts. All these stories (especially "Cliche Central") have undergone significant changes since you last saw them, and hopefully you'll be able to see these changes in a real life publication someday soon.

Now, to motivate myself to do actual schoolwork...

Nah.

-Sam goldsmith