Deluded
Rukhsana was in the kitchen
toasting toasties and swaddling them in silver foil
for the freezer
The chapattis had cooled on a wire tray
the griddle and rolling pin sat in the washer
the lamb curry was sealed in Homeware’s best
She took up the labelling pen and marked packages
For each day she’d be away.
Downtown where factories opened
and closed in a blink
her husband lifted the shutters
to his frozen fish unit
and sniffed in the mix of sawdust and kipper stink.
His deliveries would be done by the time Rukhsana left
for an important conference about something and women
and away for five days and a bit.
He’d seen the pressed shirts
labelled accordingly
and the stone-washed jeans
ironed
with the front seams perfectly straight.
At the mosque they would say he was right
to allow his wife
to attend her something of nothing
to do with champions, tomorrows and lights
for he would be beneficiary
to her very expected promotion.
Deep in the freezer an ice block trapped the sprats.
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