She curses as she stirs the pot. Cat hairs
round the rim again. Too familiar,
that's the trouble. Sprinkles herbs with bony
fingers. Turns the heat down. Licks some juices
from the spoon...
... Not too hot. Wrings a dish cloth
to dab a stain. One spot of blood amidst
the muddle. Strange how the smallest traces
linger. Wipes sweat from the creases of her
frown. Curses again as she lifts her broom.