A Bowl of Ramen

He pulled a pot out of a cupboard. Tried to wipe a stain out of the rim. It stayed.

He filled it with water and put it on the stove. Reached for the knob.

She took the pot off the stove. Poured the water from the pot into a larger pot. Water spilled over the counter. She put the large pot on the stove and the small one in the sink. Pushed his hand aside as she reached for the knob. Turned it on.

He took boiled meat from the fridge, placed it on a cutting board, and sliced it. Each slice went into the frying pan. Meat sizzled. He poured soy sauce into the frying pan. Set the bottle aside. The sauce bubbled. Boiled off. She poured more sauce. The sauce hissed. Meat simmered in it. She turned on the tap and filled the small pot with water. She grabbed four eggs and placed them at the bottom of the pot. She reached for the lid. He put a hand into the pot. Took one egg out. She opened her mouth. Didn’t say anything. He put the egg back in the fridge. Took the lid out of her hand and put it on the pot.

A photo fell off the fridge as he closed it. The two of them, on vacation. He put the photo on the windowsill. Face down.

She cut open a bag of kimchi and snipped the cabbage into the large pot with scissors. He took the bag out of her hand and scooped the kimchi out with his hand. The broth turned red. The kitchen smelled like garlic and vinegar. Three mushrooms and noodles landed in the water.

She walked to the drawer, clanging utensils back and forth until a spatula tumbled out and hit the floor. Leaving it there, she slammed the drawer shut and walked back to the stove. Saw him cutting scallions and mincing garlic on a cutting board. He put the knife aside. She lifted the board and carried it over the pots. Slid everything into a rubbish bin. She took a new clove of garlic, a bunch of scallions, and an unused knife. He stirred the soup. The noodles softened and turned the color of the broth.

He lifted a slice of meat with chopsticks. Thick, black sauce clung to the bottom of the slice. He shook the sauce off and took a bite. She reached the opposite side of the frying pan with her chopsticks. Dipped the slice in the sauce. Put a hand under the meat as she lifted it to her mouth. A drop of sauce fell on her palm.

He took one bowl out of the cupboard. Poured the soup in, then added the meat and noodles to the bowl. Dark broth, red noodles, meat, and half an egg with the yolk still wet. The steam from the bowl smelled like everything at once. He glanced at scallions and garlic. Didn’t take them. He ate, holding the bowl in one hand, chopsticks in the other, standing by the window. She made herself a bowl, kicked the spatula aside on her way to the living room. She stared at the switched-off TV set while lifting noodles out of the bowl.