Work As Usual

As the researchers came back to rinse their plates, Sarah, the cook, tried to act as she always did. “Where’re you headed today?”
Last night she had refused to talk, had left when the food ran out. Her wedding ring was missing and her father had had a heart attack.
This morning she felt guilty and her ankle ached from falling, drunk, from the step of her trailer the night before. The researchers were themselves, the Sierra Nevada were themselves, even the frosted morning was itself. If only Bishop were closer to her distant, struggling father.
The milk needed refilling.