Part XXV: Morning Ritual
I wake up because of the smell. Or I think I’m awake but it’s like a little girl me morning, so maybe I’m dreaming. I follow the aroma. Tom is stirring something rattly in an iron skillet. He turns when he hears my bare feet padding on the wooden floor. For a moment, it seems it is a dream, but then his face from back then turns into his today face, the lines and angles coming into focus.
‘What’s that? I remember that smell’
‘I’m roasting coffee beans. Like every morning I’ve been here.’
‘Coffee? Ginny loves coffee.’