Having felt exhausted yesterday I popped off to bed and to sleep quite early (for me), with the consequence of waking somewhat earlier than usual, but without that dreaded feeling of “I haven’t slept enough”. I pottered off to the kitchen and made myself some coffee and a special treat – a slice of toast with marmalade.
The toast and marmalade hold happy memories for me. A lover and I who had this every morning when we were together, regardless of where we were. Something simple, but now that he is dead it is oddly one thing that always seems to make me feel he is near.
I often wonder at people’s odd little quirks and wonder if they have a similar hidden impetus.