Memoirs from the bottom of the pot
This pot has seen things. It has seen me boil water I had no intention of using, just to convince my body that life was happening. It has seen me cook noodles with only pepper and pride. It has seen me measure crayfish like diamonds, count seasoning cubes like votes. My pot knows the weight of scarcity. It knows that sometimes, hunger is not a feeling. It’s a timeline.