His days moved slow since the explosion. Still avoided the desert. He avoided running into people he knew. Avoided getting to know someone too well. Being a ghost had been his preference. A fact unobvious to him until he fell into enjoying someone's company.

He caught himself waiting by the phone, anxious for her. He held back dinner invitations. Hoping to avoid smothering her. If he had it his way he'd be with her all the time. But he knew the best way to scare someone off was to overwhelm them. This is what the world had done to him. And he had duly cast it away. Ghosted it.

Mari might have wanted to share dinner every night. His pretending to only have time for dinner three times a week might be unnecessary. He had a feeling this was the case. But he was unwilling to risk smothering the

relationship

.

He thought of this for the fortieth time this morning. The loop of thoughts that took three seconds to run in his head but yet encompassed decades of his life. That finally brought him here. Grinding

coffee

by hand. The Argentinian way. A smile snuck onto his face.

That night she was coming over for dinner. He promised to make something other than

pizza

. He said it was a surprise. Hadn't yet decided what. He hadn't made anything other than pizza in years. Between mind-loops concerning The Blue Man, the explosion, his life in The Hills, and Mari... he considered a few dishes. He also considered buying ready-made food from the upscale grocery store. Pairing it with the softest bread he could find and calling it a day. Taste wise that would suffice. Experience wise something would be lacking. They would get to the meal too fast. There was an enjoyment in having a

meal

come to. Of being in the kitchen together, sipping drinks, chatting. While the disparate ingredients combined then turned with

Heat

into something greater than the sum of themselves.

Having a good dish coming to made the entire kitchen and house feel warmer. Once out of the lower rungs of the

hierarchy of needs

,

food

became a source of something beyond fuel alone.

Yes. Tastewise he could get ready made dishes from the store. And the two could easily and quickly eat that. The kitchen would feel less homey. Feel more like a

millennial

apartment. Where kids with no time for frivolous things such as cooking would stack empty togo containers in the sink after emptying them.

Imagining the difference between the two scenarios made it easy to decide which night he wanted. One that was settled the dish presented itself.

risotto

.