I've been woke up with a bit of a headache and a greasy sheen from the night before.

What time…

Oh, what time did he come back last night?

He didn't even remember coming back last night.

Yikes.

Oh well, not like a barber needed to be focused with a steady hand.

He lumbered down the stairs and threw on his coat for propriety.

Ungins and bread, he declared, just Ungins and bread for him this morning.

In coffee, he said he could smell the bread baking.

Yep, just salt, Ungins, coffee and bread for me this morning.

He sat down at the table, smiling, as his wife prepared heartburn on the plate.

She said the bread was already done.

Here, the plate rattled as she dropped the loaf on it alongside the Ungins.

I even poured salt over it and started sowing the bread in half.

Is there like fruit in this?

Is it a fruit cake?

I've been called out.

His wife watched him pour the last of his coffee in the mug.

It was bread.

Since he had already finished up the coffee, could she maybe get some of it?

What…

What is it?

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