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door. She's never had to wait for anything in her apology it just wouldn't be proper etiquette. She
life. thinks you've done your best to accommodate her
needs, or maybe she figures that you're just too
Yeah, you'll show her. You don't have to dumb to realize that the chicken is burnt. You don't
measure up to her standards. You smell something have to be smart to be a chef, right? She'll accept
burning so you know that the chicken is done. You your food as an act of charity. That will be her
walk back over to the counter and prepare the dish. kind deed for the year. After all, the chicken is
This time, you make sure that she has more than well-done. She won't have to worry about Salmo-
enough chicken on her plate. You decide to serve nella.
her the dish yourself. You walk out the door and
head towards her table. Seeing you, the widow "Young man," the widow says, "would you
stiffens. be so kind as to give me another serving of garlic
and butter sauce."
"I'm sorry Senora," you say, your voice
thick with apology. "I made sure this time that the "But of course," you reply. "Anything
chicken was well-done." You hand her the plate. else?"
"Thank you," she says reluctantly, eyeing "No. That will be all, thank you."
the burnt pieces of chicken amidst the lobster, clams You turn around and stroll back to the
and rice. She takes the plate and places it in front kitchen. You know why she asked for the extra
of her. sauce. You can just imagine her heaping loads of
this stuff onto her plate to relinquish some taste
"Mmmm, that really looks good," her friend from the chicken. A devilish smile crosses your
says awkwardly. lips. Your evening just got a whole lot better.
The widow smiles slightly. You know she
won't dare send the food back this time. After your
scandere
Scansion of her life that never fit
into classic iambs or feet running
out of things to say
Would he see her if he closed his i's
and opened his you's
and slipped into something less glassy
and noticed her distorted reflection
lost in translation to his savage tongue.
Erin Clarke
