This could turn out to be a good day, I think. I sit on the sofa reading ‘Death Comes to Pemberly’, while the husband makes pancakes for breakfast.
The day stretches ahead of me and I don’t mind waiting for the coffee decoction to trickle down the filter slowly. Nothing like the smell of freshly brewed filter coffee in the morning. I can even hear the sparrows chirping outside the window.
And then C turns on the television and puts on the news. Shouting anchors, put-upon guests and a stream of idiotic advertisements every 30 seconds fills the room. There goes the peace.