Friendship's Last Bite
I reassured him, knowing how he sometimes needed a little nudge to remember breakfast.
The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of the clock ticking overhead. I opened the fridge, reaching for three eggs, a knob of butter, and the grape jelly I knew he loved. With deliberate care, I cracked the eggs into the well-oiled skillet and whisked them together with milk, letting the golden yolks blend into creamy perfection. While they cooked, I retrieved two slices of whole wheat bread and slid them into the toaster, setting it to three minutes to achieve that slightly burnt, toasty flavor Adam enjoyed.
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