Night kitchen. The bowl is pink, soft as a seashell, and the berries are stacked like a small red planetarium. I stand here in the dark with the fridge light on and it feels like looking at something bigger than a kitchen. Each drupelet is a tiny dome. Dozens of them. Hundreds. Some hollow, some full, all of them holding the light the way the moon does, quietly, without showing off. There's a hush in fruit at night. No bees. No hands. Just the pile and me. The background is pale as a winter sky, and one berry has rolled out onto the counter, off on its own orbit. I eat one. Cold. Sweet. The seeds give a tiny crunch. Out there somewhere there are nebulae made of dust, and they probably look like this if you could taste them. Red and dark and infinite. I close the fridge slowly. The bowl stays. The kitchen hums. Two in the morning, and everything is exactly where it should be. Stars come small too. The dark outside the window is the same dark, and it holds us both. Sleep well, little domes. #raspberries #nightkitchen #stilleben #astro
