Kitchen

It’s said that the building was a hotel built 90 years ago. Now is an apartment, and the last time it got renovated was in the 70’s. The doors, the walls, and the cabinet, everything was painted in white and has become shabby over the years. The doors in the kitchen were never closed tightly. Some of them even have fallen down. Eventually people let them open all the time. The spices sitting on the shelves appeared the residency history. Many of them were oriental and some were mysterious, with unreadable labels on the bottles. People bought them and left them when they moved out. Some of them had sat there for years and finally they expired. In the drawers were regular dinning wares but they never became a set. The teapot had sat on the stove for a long time, dusty and sticky. It still whistled with full energy when the water was boiled. The stove set had some temper. It was always broken after people used the oven below. A girl who lived there for a while put many magnets with words on the refrigerator. She felt it an art to make sentences with these tiny little things. But they were too many. It looked like ants spreading on the refrigerator instead. The black-and-white tiled floor was crummy and never came shiny again since people come and go frequently, with little attention of something under their feet.