You purposely avoid the hallway mirror. The kitchen is a safe place, it feels full and settled. It hasn't become aware yet of impending poverty. It will, as cabinets are emptied out of cereals and pastas.

You put away your purchases, inadvertantly taking inventory as you go.

You figure you have food enough to last a month or maybe two.

You laugh, a dark thing that comes from some place deep and low. You realize that at last and least, you'll be sticking to your diet.