The grisly smell of the frying bacon sat on the air as thick as the November fog draping the Skimming River Valley. The gamey scent of breakfast overcame Jule, waking her from a deep sleep with an offensive blend of nostalgia and nausea. The girl's sudden groan to life startled Gray Man who was intently preparing the meal causing him to send the cast iron skillet clattering food to the floor. A gruff moan quickly escaped his beard-masked mouth.
"You're awake," Gray Man grunted the obvious as he picked up toast from the ill-maintained kitchen floor.
A soft murmur escaped Jule's lips, "Yes, Gra - sir."
Gray Man nodded somewhat approvingly as though Jule's being awake was some type of notable achievement. Jule cautiously stretched her neck that had been awkwardly contorted on the stiff couch during her sleep. As she loosened her muscles, her thoughts drifted back to the previous night, but a noise from the kitchen quickly startled her back to the present morning.
Callously setting the breakfast food on the kitchen table, Gray Man barked, "Breakfast is ready. You'll need it."
Begrudgingly lifting her body from the couch, Jule weakly shuffled toward the small table and quietly thanked the man for breakfast.
"Don't thank me. Just eat. The fog is thick this morning, but it should be gone soon. We'll need to be ready to start when it clears, and you'll need the energy," Gray Man glanced at her through accusing eyes, "especially after last night."
Jule cast her eyes downward closing them slightly. Last night. The memories were painful. They would be for a time much longer than she anticipated at that moment.
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Original stories and poignant thought from a
former West Coast girl living in a Midwestern
world with a New England heart.
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