Toothbrushes and Tofu :: Short Story Papers

Toothbrushes and Tofu Yay hyperchocolate hazelnut spread over Yay apricot baklava Yay carrot cake and apple crisp Yay periwinkle dining room trim Yay co-ops - Watermyn accommodate journal, 1986 The co-op is on the corner of Waterman and Governor streets, hunkered there akin an old man, into a dilapidated permanence. Two enormous cherry trees touch on the front yard in the fall their golden leaves are left over(p) in peace to coat the lawn until they rot or blow away. A tangled cluster of bicycles clings to a metal sculpture that is perched like an sucking louse under the largest tree. The front garden sprouts renegade tomato plants and Echinacea flowers, yen taken over with weeds, and a tin sign hangs feebly from a piece of yellow pipe, its faded letters announcing, Watermyn Co-op Garden. The newly build front porch tactile sensations of wet, cut wood and supports a ratty looking couch, a small mosaiced table, and half a dozen un-opened Wall Street Journals. The Watermyn kitchen neer fails to be a stimulating experience. This Sunday night is no exception. Ian and Allison hack on vegetables, and the counters swim in piles of mushrooms, carrots, spinach, bowls of crumbled tofu and pans spread with deep-chested pizza dough. Liz Phair plays on the stereo, just loud enough to inhibit a normal decibel of conversation. Old crumpled newspapers litter the two couches downstairs the stereo, and rows of red-capped spices, cereal boxes and other assorted dried goods line the racks above the counters. Clippings, sketches and posters daub the refrigerator and walls. Broken kitchen appliances are stuck above the fridge with black electrical tape and some one has scrawled above them in black marker, Kitchen appliance cemetery - where all good cooking tools come to die. Ian is tall, with a warm grimace and a worn-in look, faded and comfortable like someones favorite sneakers. He groans as he opens up rotting bags of spinach, How long has this been in the fri dge? Im non going to use this. Do you think I should use this? No, no one will want to eat this. Allison doesnt offer any suggestions. She smiles unconcernedly and slides an assembled pizza into the oven, holding her long brown hair back with one hand. Dinner is served at 630 and in a a couple of(prenominal) minutes co-opers will begin to wander into the kitchen and common rooms, lured by the smell of cooking dough and stir-fried garlic.