Peas, Frozen

Ellen sat in the kitchen eating frozen peas. Her mouth was frozen and her tongue slow so when Alex came by to say hello, Elle could only articulate a thick "Hi" which sounded as if someone were pulling her tongue. Probably a cat. She had written a short story about a man buying a house. It was a puzzling affair as the short story seemed more like a poem and the ideas were somewhat jumbled. Elle didn't know what the story was supposed to mean but she knew it meant something. She felt the same way about the story as she did about religion: confused but with a feeling that there was more than what was presented.
The peas were gone. Ellen pushed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to warm it. She would deal with the problem like she dealt with everything else these days. Elle crumpled up her work and threw it in the trash with the bag from the frozen peas.