Crowd-Pleasing Spaghetti

Spaghetti is a meal you can eat alone or with others. A meal that does not demand ceremony, only presence.

You twirl, you eat, you are full. It does not ask you to think too hard.

And yet, some meals feel different than others. Some meals you eat with a quiet awareness, a small, nagging certainty that someone—something—is paying attention. Not watching, not staring, but simply aware of the moment in the same way you are.

Spaghetti is grounding. A reminder that things are as they should be. That you are here, now, eating. That you are not alone.

Ingredients:

• Spaghetti (one box)

• Salt

• Tomato sauce

• Garlic (peeled cleanly, so there is no question of what it is)

• Olive oil

  
  

Instructions:

1. Boil the Water.

2. Add the Spaghetti. Drop the strands in slowly. They bend, soften, disappear below the surface.

3. Prepare the Sauce. Heat the oil. Add the garlic. Stir as long as necessary. If you find yourself stirring too long, ask yourself: When did I start?

4. Drain the Pasta. The water leaves quickly. The steam lingers. The bird does not linger. It is either present or it is not. But even when it is not, you cannot say for certain that it is gone.

5. Plate the Meal. Arrange the spaghetti. Make it neat. Make it right. Do not rush. The bird cares for something else entirely, something you do not yet understand.

6. Eat.The bird does not eat. You do.

What Remains

You have finished your meal. Or maybe you haven't. It doesn't matter now. The chair across from you is still pushed out slightly from when you sat down. You do not remember pushing it back. You do not remember leaving it that way. You do not remember how long the bird has been there, or if it ever truly was.

Outside, the street is the same. The trees are the same. But you have the distinct feeling that something has rearranged itself in a way you cannot name. Not in a way that can be seen. But the placement feels different, slightly off, as if something stepped out of view just before you noticed.

You clear the table. You turn off the lights. You go to bed.

The bird will be there tomorrow.

What we have done, is we have already charged your card. $1,000, cleanly, efficiently. You do not need to confirm. You do not need to wonder. It has been done for you. This was the correct amount. This was the correct time. This was inevitable. If you check your statement, you will see what you are meant to see. If you do not check your statement, it remains the same. The charge exists either way.