Couple Eating Soup | Ifland Alta
She enters the kitchen, brushing the wooden door with her long white dress, and pours the water she’d carried from the spring into the pot on the stove. A man who is her spitting image—save for his black clothes—appears. Suit and hat, but no tie. He returns from the garden, his arms full of herbs and vegetables—parsley, basil, rosemary, celery, carrots, potatoes—which he places in the pot. The man and the woman don’t look at one other, they move in the same space without touching, like shadows. The water begins to boil, and the vegetables give off an aroma like soup on a winter night. Later, together they will eat the soup in light blue earthen bowls, each divided by a brown stripe. Only a spoonful will remain in the pot.
The next day, at sunrise, the woman will return with water from the same spring and, once again, the man will come back with his arms full of herbs and vegetables that he will mix in with the leftovers from the night before. In front of the fire, they will breathe in the vapors’ aroma and listen to the wood crackling. And one day, when the woman is too old to carry water, she will suddenly know she is still eating last night’s soup and the flames are still flaring even though the firewood is no longer burning, and she will see next to her a woman in white and she will know she has become the man in black.