The Prologue and the first two chapters of a story I am currently writing.

I think we all know just how impatient a seven year old child can be, and yes, I am speaking of myself.

A table holds many things.

I care for you.

Is what we have real?

Hope is a small mercy.

You fell from a great height.

You know me better than anybody else.

Table tops or the tops of anything around, a convenient spot to dump the odds and ends.

Presented at my dining table.