Notes
One cup on the kitchen table
The house is empty for a week. I keep finding my own mug in odd places.
Freja Ås
Everyone is away. The kitchen is very quiet. I made coffee and sat at the big table with one cup and nothing to clear up.
It is strange how loud a single cup sounds on a wooden table. I put it down carefully, like someone was asleep.
The rest of the week
I ate cereal for dinner twice. I read a whole book. On the fifth day I missed the noise and called my sister just to hear someone chew.
