About the work

She must have brought the bright green paring knife from home, tucked into her handbag, because she always peeled her apple sitting right here. Not because the apples from the supermarket were so dirty, but because the ritual, the careful removal of skin, was a way to pass the time that felt productive. She often wondered if the other woman noticed the tiny green ceramic knife glinting under the tube. Or perhaps, for her, it was just another part of the familiar furniture of their shared Tuesdays, the sound of the machines, the smell of warm detergent, the flickering light.