The coffee brewed while Kate ate her cereal. Thurman noticed a glimmer of light behind the blinds.
It’s morning, he thought. Finally it’s morning.
It was morning when you woke up said Phyllis. A ball of burning gases millions of miles away doesn’t start your morning. You do.
Thurman opened the blinds and Kate looked up, then back down at her cereal.
Thurman sighed and gazed out the window. There was mist in the air and dew on the ground. The birds flicked back and forth, playing or fighting over God knows what. Clouds glared through the glass.
“Another beautiful day! Look at the birdies, sweetie! Do you know what kind of birds those are?”
Kate shoved another spoonful of cereal in her mouth.
“Are you going to play outside today, Sweetie?”
No said Phyllis. Also she’s still waking up.
The coffee timer sounded. Thurman pressed down the plunger and filled his mug as the first drops of rain slapped against the window.
He took his first sip. He tasted cocoa and caramel and clean water. He smiled, then heard the clack of a bedroom door.
The Average Life of Thurman Dogood 