LOREN
Again, the less talking and conflict Loren had to get through this evening, the better. This time, when Phoebe asked him to sit, he didn’t even bother making a token protest, just marched to the nearest chair and sank down in it stiffly. She could insist that he sit, but she couldn’t force him to relax. Instead, he just flipped through the book. When she brought up the offensive chapter, his eyes flicked up. ”Noted.” Female reproduction—even the poorly described and ill-advised—would wait for another day. While he was interrupted, he meandered over to the oven to make sure it was hot enough for the actual baking before returning to his perch.
He got through a couple chapters before it was time to actually put the bread in the oven. He slid them inside, then went back to his sitting and his reading for a bit longer. After the eternity it had taken the dough to rise, the baking seemed to take an incredibly short time. Indeed, it seemed like only a few moments passed (or a chapter of the textbook) before it was time to pull the perfectly baked loaves from the oven.
Sliding them onto the counter to cool, he tidied up the kitchen and the dishes, then turned to Phoebe. ”There’s your bread. Now, it’s late, and I need to get home. Thank you for the dinner.” On the way out he returned the book, then checked that he had all the items he collected, before making his way into the cold and the dark to his actual house. This had been a long, hard, evening between the arrest and the bargaining and the staying up way too late, and he was glad it was finally over.
He got through a couple chapters before it was time to actually put the bread in the oven. He slid them inside, then went back to his sitting and his reading for a bit longer. After the eternity it had taken the dough to rise, the baking seemed to take an incredibly short time. Indeed, it seemed like only a few moments passed (or a chapter of the textbook) before it was time to pull the perfectly baked loaves from the oven.
Sliding them onto the counter to cool, he tidied up the kitchen and the dishes, then turned to Phoebe. ”There’s your bread. Now, it’s late, and I need to get home. Thank you for the dinner.” On the way out he returned the book, then checked that he had all the items he collected, before making his way into the cold and the dark to his actual house. This had been a long, hard, evening between the arrest and the bargaining and the staying up way too late, and he was glad it was finally over.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
