I lift the egg from the stove and slide it onto cheese melted over wheat toast. A favorite breakfast of mine. Break the egg’s yolk and it becomes a lazy man’s Eggs Benedict.
Where is the Canadian bacon, you might ask, suggesting that perhaps you do not understand what I mean when I call it the “lazy man’s Eggs Benedict.”
The kitchen is small but it serves its purpose just fine. A window looks out over Elliott Bay, Alki to the south and Bainbridge to the west. Ferries crisscross the bay and on Sundays cargo ships from Asia dock at terminals I can’t see because a tree is in the way.
A storm moves north over Alki towards me. Actually, Seattle rarely has storms, it just has “permawet.” I know before I leave the apartment the umbrella will come in handy this morning.
It’s 6:05 but I delay my departure a moment while I finish reading a magazine article. The article is not particularly interesting, but I’m almost done and I want to finish it. At 6:06 I drop the magazine on the table, put the dishes in the sink, and walk towards the door, relaxed in the knowledge that as long as I leave by 6:09 I’ll be okay.