RAIN • NOT HEAVY • NO POUNDING • JUST A STEADY TAPPING YOU ONLY NOTICE ONCE YOU STOP TALKING • HE HAD HEARD IT WHEN HE LET THE DOOR FALL SHUT BEHIND HIM • IT DIDN’T CLOSE ALL THE WAY, AS IS OFTEN THE CASE WITH OLD THINGS THAT HAVE BEEN THROUGH A LOT • THE ROOM WAS FULL, BUT NOT LOUD • VOICES, A FEW GLASSES, CHAIRS SLIDING OVER WOOD • ALL MUTED • PATIENT • HE SAT DOWN • EYES ON WHATEVER CAME • BACK SECURED • THE FIRST PLATE ARRIVED • CONCRETE, MATTE, HEAVIER THAN EXPECTED • SOMETHING GREEN, SOMETHING MILD, SLIGHTLY BITTER • ENDIVE, MAYBE • BUT WARM • ALMOST SWEET ON THE FINISH • HE CHEWED, WAITED • FELT • AND SUDDENLY THERE WAS AN IMAGE – NOT CLEAR, BUT PRESENT: A KITCHEN AT HIS GRANDMOTHER’S • STEAM • TIN DISHES • POTATOES IN THE OVEN, LAVENDER BY THE WINDOW • SUMMER, BUT THE DAY ALREADY COOLING • “DOES IT TASTE GOOD?” A VOICE ASKED • HE LOOKED UP • THE WAITER • YOUNG • HAIR ALL WINDSWEPT, AS IF THE WIND HAD BLOWN HIM IN • “I...,” HE PAUSED, “...DON’T KNOW THIS • BUT SOMEHOW IT REMINDS ME OF HOME • EVEN THOUGH IT NEVER WAS.” • THE WAITER SLID HIS HANDS INTO HIS APRON POCKETS • “FERMENTED ENDIVE, LAVENDER OIL, ROASTED CELERY • SOME SAY: TOO STRANGE.” • “I THINK: IT THINKS ALONG.” – HE DIDN’T KNOW WHY HE SAID THAT • BUT IT WAS OUT • THE WAITER NODDED • SECOND COURSE • DARKER • DEEPER • SOMETHING WITH MUSHROOMS, MAYBE SMOKED GRAINS • THE SOUNDS IN THE ROOM RECEDED • THE FLAVOR SPREAD OVER EVERYTHING, EVEN HIS THOUGHTS • HE THOUGHT OF AN OUTING WITH HIS SON • BACK THEN • THEY HAD PICKED MUSHROOMS, FOUND NONE • STILL, IT HAD BEEN A GOOD DAY • THE WAITER RETURNED. “AND?” • “QUIET,” HE SAID • THE WAITER LOOKED AT HIM, QUESTIONING • “THE DISH • IT DOESN’T SPEAK LOUDLY • BUT IT MEANS WHAT IT SAYS.” • AGAIN, THAT SHORT NOD FROM HIM • NO FOLLOW-UP • JUST PRESENCE • HE APPRECIATED THAT • WORDLESS ATTENTION • THE EVENING DIDN’T PASS • IT STAYED • AS IF TIME DID SOMETHING DIFFERENT HERE THAN USUAL • NO MINUTES • JUST: MOMENTS • THE WAITER CLEARED THE PLATE • PAUSED BRIEFLY AGAIN. “WHAT DO YOU DO, GENERALLY?” HE ASKED • “A LOT OF TALKING. PRESENTATIONS. CONCEPTS. STRUCTURE.” • “AND TODAY?” • “TODAY I’M SOFT.” • HE LAUGHED QUIETLY • THEN SAID NOTHING MORE • JUST A BRIEF, CLEAR LOOK • THEN HE WAS GONE AGAIN • HE STAYED SEATED, FOR A LONG TIME • THE GUESTS LEFT, GREW FEWER • NOT HIM • HE HAD NO REASON TO LEAVE • NOT YET • AND SOMETIME LATER, WHEN ONLY THE CLINKING OF GLASSES FROM THE BAR REMAINED, HE STOOD UP • WALKED SLOWLY TO THE DOOR • LAID HIS HAND ON THE WOOD • FELT: SOMETHING OF ITS OWN • SOMETHING THAT DIDN’T PRETEND TO BE MORE THAN IT WAS • BUT ALSO HELD NOTHING BACK • HE DIDN’T THINK OF ARCHITECTURE • NOT OF CONCEPT • NOT OF ART • ONLY OF THIS ONE THOUGHT: SOFT • SOFT AND HONEST ••