grand canyon

your family
calls you out of
the blue, they
ask you if you'd
like to go to
the grand canyon
with them this
summer. a family
outing. a reunion
of sorts. bonding,
that sort of thing.
you hesitate. you
shift your feet
while standing
in the kitchen
with the refrigerator
door wide open. it's
deep and wide, you
can almost hear
your voice echo
when you say, oh my.
you feel the cold
wrap around your
bare legs. you
see a ketchup bottle,
and mustard.
pizza poorly wrapped
in foil. vodka.
a thin bottle
of green olives
afloat on the side
door. there's
an orange
with a blue green
bruise on it's
now flat side.
you tell your sister
no, perhaps next year.