“The first egg is white. I move the egg-cup a little, so it’s now in the watery sunlight that comes through the window and falls, brightening, waning, brightening again, on…
“On our first Friday evening there, after prayers were finished and orange and pink
She was black as she could be, twisted like driftwood from being out in the weather,
There is something about breakfast that kept tugging..
Lorraine sat a while and thought. Thank Jesus this first