The Price Changed Mid-Sentence

I picked it up at one price. By the time I queued, paid, and blinked, it was another. Economists call it hyperinflation. We call it Tuesday, and we laugh, because the alternative is unthinkable.

The fire was lit at two. The meat arrived at nine. In between: wine, argument, more wine, a nap, and the sacred unhurried patience of a people who understand that the asado is not a meal but a day.