Featured in the 2023 Winter Issue of Rambunctious
Eating Cheese by the Light of the Refrigerator Anka Chiorini, '23 i pick myself out of bed and wander aimlessly to the dark empty kitchen i open the pantry barely able to make out the shapes of cereal boxes by the dim flicker of christmas lights i open the fridge the sliver of sharp cheddar that i have been saving calls my name i take it out leaving the fridge open this won’t take long i take a knife out of the dirty dishwasher and cut a thick wedge AND THEN THE WORLD EXPLODES everything melts away i am alone in the kitchen in my purest form my eyes close my hips sway and suddenly i am dancing alone in the kitchen by the light of the refrigerator i bask in the fluorescent buzzing light throwing my head back to the heavens as if to say thank you universe thank you cows and dairy farmers thank you wegmans thank you general electric thank you patti lupone and barack obama and motherf*cking albert einstein thank you to my parents my neighbors my boyfriend my best friend my third grade teacher thank you gods i don’t believe in thank you for cheese thank you for the refrigerator and I am alone in the kitchen eating cheese by the light of the refrigerator