"if you're going to pretend to be a worker all day you're going to have to wash up too"
i groaned and removed the apron my neck.
"i'm kidding. you rest. and make me a cup of coffee"
i didn't listen to her and followed her through o the kitchen. it was a small kitchen. probably slightly smaller than the one i have at home. but it was wonderfully busy with pots and pans and ingredients with recipes hung over the old wallpaper on the walls. and it smelt even better.
"i said to sit down"
"poo you then"
i joined the girl in front of the sink and took a pair of yellow washing up gloves for myself.
a small conversation hummed between us as we washed the dishes and equipment used to bake the treats this morning.
"i bought a new plant yesterday"
"what kind?"
"a little string of pearls to hang from my ceiling"
"what you name em?"
"i named them rodger"
"rodger? why rodger?"
"because i like the name rodger"
i laughed at fleurs adorable habit of naming and pronoun-ing her plants.
"what's new with you?"
"oh i didn't tell you! i finished my song!"
"what the fuck!"
she whipped her hands from amongst the soapy, bubbly sink full of half washed dishes and threw them around me.
"why didn't you tell me?"
"unlike you, i was working my ass off"
"meanie"
she scooped a handful of bubbles and launched them at me.
