Chiles and Hope
An outsider may think I'm living in a gray cloud in my new post-marriage-implosion reality, yet that isn't true. In many ways, the clouds have lifted in this unexpected life.
From the pots on my sunny deck, I just harvested almost all the ripe chiles: Aji Omnicolor, Cayenne, Pilange, and Chupetinho. A couple times in the last month, I have sat in the sun to eat one, mouth flooded with flavor and pain, my lips numb, sweat jumping up under my eyes. It hurts. I don't do this often. But when I do, the endorphin response is just so strong, and I feel amazing, hopeful, and alive.
I feel like tearing the chiles off the city and stuffing them in my mouth, until I'm crying and happy. I want to string them around my neck, inviting others to chew them off.
I feel hot.
From the pots on my sunny deck, I just harvested almost all the ripe chiles: Aji Omnicolor, Cayenne, Pilange, and Chupetinho. A couple times in the last month, I have sat in the sun to eat one, mouth flooded with flavor and pain, my lips numb, sweat jumping up under my eyes. It hurts. I don't do this often. But when I do, the endorphin response is just so strong, and I feel amazing, hopeful, and alive.
I feel like tearing the chiles off the city and stuffing them in my mouth, until I'm crying and happy. I want to string them around my neck, inviting others to chew them off.
I feel hot.
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