In the picturesque town of Leavenworth, Washington, 27-year-old Sofie Bennett leads a life marked by its comforting predictability. As a sweet-natured waitress at The Alpine Tavern-a cozy haven where locals come together for hearty meals and lively...
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The morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a gentle glow over the room. I awoke to the comforting aroma of breakfast wafting through the house, a sign that Grandma Millie was already up and about. I slipped out of bed, the events of the previous night still fresh in my mind, but the prospect of a home-cooked meal provided a comforting distraction. As I made my way to the kitchen, I found Grandma Millie humming softly to herself as she worked at the stove. Her short, wavy white hair was pulled back with a decorative clip, and she wore her usual light-colored blouse and checkered apron. The kitchen was alive with the sounds of sizzling bacon and the clatter of dishes, a warm, inviting start to the day.
"Good morning, dear," Millie greeted me with a smile that could melt away any worries. "I thought I'd make us a nice breakfast to start the day."
"Good morning, Grandma," I said, my voice carrying a mix of gratitude and fatigue. "That smells amazing."
Millie's smile widened as she turned to face me. "I figured you might need a little comfort after last night. I made pancakes, bacon, and your favorite—grits."
"Sounds perfect," I replied, taking a seat at the kitchen table. The comforting routine of breakfast with Millie felt like a balm to my restless mind.
As Millie finished preparing the meal, I set the table and poured myself a cup of coffee. The familiar act of arranging silverware and plates was soothing, a small anchor in the sea of uncertainty. Millie placed a steaming plate in front of me, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as I dug in.
"So, how are you feeling today?" Millie asked, her eyes filled with concern as she sat down with her own plate.
I took a sip of my coffee and tried to put on a brave face. "I'm doing okay. Just trying to keep busy. I've got a lot to do around the house."
Millie nodded knowingly. "Sometimes a bit of busywork helps clear the mind. It's good to stay active."
We chatted about mundane things—plans for the garden, the latest news from town, and the little quirks of the household appliances. The conversation flowed easily, providing a welcome distraction from the more troubling thoughts that had been occupying my mind. After breakfast, I set about doing chores around the house. I tidied up the living room, dusted the shelves, and even made a quick run to the grocery store for some essentials. The rhythmic tasks were oddly comforting, offering a reprieve from the lingering fear of The Iron Brotherhood.
As I returned from the store, the sun was climbing higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood. I took a deep breath, feeling the cool air and the simple pleasure of a productive morning. The house was in order, and the errands were done—small victories in a day that promised to be filled with a mix of anticipation and reflection.
When I walked back into the house, I found Grandma Millie sitting in her favorite armchair, the one with the floral upholstery that had seen better days. She was intently watching the news on TV, her wrinkled hands clasped tightly together.
