The other kitchen

You set the phone beside the chopping board. For a while I hear only the knife, then the scrape of everything you have cut into the pan.

I ask you to move the phone. You think I cannot hear you. I can hear you very well. I want to see what you are making.

Here, my tea has gone cold. There, you lift the lid and disappear behind the steam.

When you come back, you ask whether I have eaten. I hold my cup up to the camera. You say that does not count.