much as one separated from their tour guide on foreign soil in a metro station, this canning jar stands in an aura of confusion and growing frustration behind a crowd of things much taller than itself looking for someone who will recognize it and send it in the right direction.

for months now, I have been pondering what exactly that reddish substance sealed within it might be. I do not remember its arrival in my house. to hazard a guess, I would say it's some sort of middle-eastern stew, but in all honesty, I am afraid open it and see. the thing is, if I open it, then it becomes my responsibility. to continue my simile, you simply cannot walk up to someone, ask them if they are lost, and leave once they've said yes.

the moral of this story is, although I am a fully functioning, self-sufficient human being, I still do not know of a graceful way to deal with the unknown substances that lurk behind the marmalade.