Time’s a-chugging as onions get chopped and squished. Through blistering eyes, she plans her menu. No tomatoes, how can anyone not have tomatoes? She curses inwardly but triumphantly produces a can of crushed tomatoes. All I need is garbanzo or kidney beans. Drat, no Goya? Never mind, luckily Furmano’s comes to the rescue.
Brows furrowed, she manages to stir and scrape the edges as few pieces leave a black trail of death. As she empties contents, powders and thoughts into the pot, morning sounds come to a simmering halt.
“People, mom has graduated from a Developer to an Integrator.”