Word Association #3

ODP



 

Eggar pulled the door of the fridge open, leaned down and peered inside. “Edna, wha’ we got to eat?”

“Ain’t much Eggar, we might got some hamfat ‘n grits though.”

Eggar smiled when he heard there’s grits in the fridge and he increased the intensity with which he continued pokin’ through the bowls, and bags that filled the wire shelves. The little light went off. He cursed and thumped it till it came back on.

On the bottom shelf he finally saw the shallow blue bowl with the chip on the rim. There was a gelatinous mess o’ grits heaped in it. Next to it was a slab of ham. He grabbed ’em both and stood. With a twist of his waist he hip checked the ‘frigerator door and closed it. Then he sat the food on the counter and pulled his po’ dead momma’s old cast iron skillet down from the hook over the stove. An Ohio Blue Tip match ignited easily when he drug his thumbnail over the tip and he used it to light the burner

With the fish knife he always wore on his belt he carved a ½ inch thick ring of fat off the ham an’ tossed it in the skillet. It began to sizzle and render. Then he turned to the bowl full of congealed grits and sliced it up, long thin slices, a little over a quarter inch thick.

Eggar rolled himself a smoke and lit it on the burner. He leaned back ‘gainst the chipped white tile countertop and smoked while he waited. His fish knife layin’ on the stove.

When the grease was hot and coated the bottom of the pan he lifted out four slices of grits with his knife and laid them gently in the skillet. Pushing them around  till he made room for one more then he laid that in too.

When it was time he turned ‘em and as soon as both sides were browned he hollered fer his wife agin. “Edna, y’all want some fried grits?”

“I ain’t got time for that shit right now Eggar. I’m gettin’ ready fer church.”

“Hopin’ y’all ud say that,” he muttered under his breath and upended the skillet over a single plate.

He tugged up his trousers and shoved stuff across the grey Formica table top making ’nuff room fer himself to sit down and eat.


 

Ten min write – ten min edit. Thanks ODP.

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