@the-number-five liked for a starter
“...Here.” Grace’s voice is quiet; Were it any other (human) person, her tone might be perceived as hesitant. “..I had this delivered by our grocer...I hope you like it.”
She sets a paper bag on the kitchen counter, the label on its side written in Spanish. From the package rises the unmistakable scent of coffee beans, pre-ground. Next to it, she sets a hand grinder and an elegant, antique press. The one from Sir Reginald’s display case, untouched for decades...
When it comes to Five, Mom feels as though her memory banks are fragmented. She knows he’s been gone, that he is... not the same as he was when his siblings were still children. But Five looks so much the same, Grace finds her hard drive struggles to unite the boy she knew and the man who now watches her from behind his eyes.
