Cooking at home - 3.

Time to cook. She steps into the bright kitchen, still in the simple cotton dress she slept in. The fabric clings where she hasn’t tied the belt yet, the hem brushing just above her knees. She starts with the soup, chopping onions and carrots with steady hands, the steel knife flashing under the light. Oil warms in the big pan, sending up a soft sizzle when she drops the meat in. She flips each piece once the edges turn gold, juices popping, the scent thickening the air. Between turns she tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and keeps working, bare feet moving easily over the cool tile. The dress shifts with every reach and lean, riding higher on one thigh when she bends for a wooden spoon. Steam curls from the pot, and she tastes the broth straight from the ladle, lips parting, eyes half-closed as the flavor spreads on her tongue. She wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb, gives the meat one last press with the spatula, then carries both dishes to the small table beside the window.