[ it's on a day three that kaveh shows up once again at daan's door.there is a samsara in the works here, an unending cycle that kaveh has fallen into that he doesn't quite know how to break. if asked, he would say it's a choice - he had, in fact, come back to his apartment in the early hours of the morning to put the stew on boil, and had had a meal of it just before arriving to make sure that the seasoning was just right. there are once again three containers in a burgeoning, still-protesting totebag painted with what looks to be a magpie in flight, generous, sweeping brushstrokes outlining the bird's wings in abstract adoration. kaveh lets the tote rest next to the doorjamb as he knows. kaveh knocks. he is ten minutes late.

as in the same samsara, he brightens upon seeing the doctor in form. ]

There's you. [ the real greeting: the hefting of the tote as kaveh pushes it cheerfully into daan's arms. ] Have you eaten? Don't answer that if I'm not going to like the answer. Did you know that you've driven me to make homemade mortadella?