Great Expectations – Part Two

With his bags packed and his stomach grumbling, he began to prepare breakfast. Knowing it might be some time before he got to cook a good meal for himself, he savoured the experience.

He thought it ironic that he enjoyed cooking and other simple things, given what he was capable of. He prepared his scrambled eggs with precision. He didn’t overbeat the mixture making sure it was a marbled yellow colour.

He knew cereal wasn’t the healthiest option but he helped himself to a large bowl anyway. He poured the milk carefully and switched on his laptop. He savoured the crunch of the cereal as the old laptop came to life. He had picked up the computer second hand years ago and somehow it continued to run.

He left the computer to load, not wanting his cereal to turn to mush. You see, cereal eating is an art. The first few spoonfuls are about enjoying the crunch with the freshness of the milk. Then there’s the golden period where the cereal starts to absorb the milk though retains its shape. Once past this, you’re left with an amorphous mass and this is best scooped into the nearest bin.

He checked his emails having finished his cereal. The eggs continued to cook away on the stove. The amount of junk that filled his inbox flummoxed him. He would like to meet the people who spent their time making and sending spam mail. He’d punch them in their collective noses.

His eggs were ready by the time his inbox was clear of trash. He could never seem to eat slowly despite his best intentions. Maybe it was because he had lived alone for so long. Without company, he had no one to talk with.

He pushed his now egg-less dish to one side and dragged the laptop forward. Damn. Still no reply. He had spent hours crafting clever emails in hope he would get some kind of lead.

Even if had received a response of two, would he act on it? Would he have the balls to move away from what he was born to do and instead pursue something he was less adept at but more passionate about?

He wouldn’t have to worry about that quandary as he stared at an empty inbox.


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