C— for you—
Whilst I was away, she unpacked the last of her spoons and cups and shuffled them into our life. I returned to find her cookbooks stacked on top of mine and an unfamiliar jug filled with sunflowers, sat certain on the table. There was a new blue teapot on the shelf, but it wasn’t new, just new to me – like the little silver toast rack on the counter.
I found doubles: two copies of the same book, two cafetières. She used to have an orange-handled butter knife just like mine but she left it behind and it’s someone else’s now.