The fridge is nearly empty and James lies to me, saying that he’s no longer hungry. I would make fish, but the plastics in the water affect male fertility and James keeps yammering on about how much he wants to be a dad once we get out of this situation. I find a tub of yogurt in the side door and tortilla chips in the pantry. I figure I can make some tzatziki dip. 

The lemon juice is from a bottle and is most likely nothing more than a mixture of citric acid and water. We nabbed the salt and pepper from a diner we went to three months ago and that’s reflected in the quality. Fresh garlic is substituted for powder. There’s no dill so I pour in a greek seasoning packet that I found in the back of the pantry. We do without the mint entirely as any meager substitute I could find would have added too much sweetness and ruined the taste entirely. There’s nothing more I can do and I bring the bowl to the table in the living room.

James dips a tortilla chip into the bowl of poorly seasoned yogurt and takes a taste. He tells me that it’s not bad given the lack of ingredients. I put on a somber smile.

“I love you” he says

“I love you too,” I reply.