This is Where We Talk Things Out, by Caitlin Marceau is grilled cheese & tomato soup. The steaminess of melting cheese and browned butter fills your room, waking you from a dreamless sleep. For a moment, you almost forget where you are. But then you glance to the dark, foggy window, the snow pelting the glass like tiny fists. Whispering your name. Everything, from the purple dresser to the twin bed to the piggy bank on your nightstand, all of it is recognizable; nothing has changed. Your mother is calling your name. You feel off balance as you walk through this house, as though you are two sizes too large. The wrong scale. Your pajamas are patterned in colorful horses with silky manes and long eyelashes, and the fabric ends at your elbows, at your calves. Stunted. The cuffs are so tight they leave red rings around your arms and legs. Your mother is calling your name. But it is that texas toast, dripping in butter, cheddar and Havarti and Gouda sandwiched between, this is what calls you downstairs. Peeled, boiling tomatoes bubbling over the stove, sweetened with a pinch of sugar, swirled with extra virgin olive oil. This is what draws you closer. Your mother is calling your name. There is a booster seat at the table, and you don’t like the way she’s smiling at you. There is no child in this house. The grilled cheese is cut into bite-sized pieces, scattered on the pink tray like misshapen baby teeth. When she lunges for you, you are more surprised than upset, but begin to struggle as she tries to push your legs in the holes of the plastic seat. Your body feels numb, your legs tingly, and soon you are sitting there, high up in your chair, fingers splattering the hot soup like a ... Like you’re a kid again. The spoon is too small and it’s handle is coated in rubber. She picks it up, feeds you a taste of hot soup. You scream from the instant ripening of tastebuds, your whole mouth on fire. She’s feeding you as if you are home sick from school. As if you are not a 34 year old woman. Your mother is calling you— “Welcome home, baby.“