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All your coffee are belong to Gabe!

Location: The Cravat
Time: N/A. (Though for all intents and purposes it is morning.)


This morning, as with many mornings, Gabe's first thought was one word. This one word was 'coffee.' He carefully extricated himself from his and Jeannot's bed, making sure not to wake his love as he did. He left the room quietly and went down the stairs, looking for any new room, hopefully one containing a coffee-maker and some grounds. As luck ((or possibly the BC's inherent MKCSR powers)) would have it, the first room he decided to explore was the kitchen, the coffee-maker on the counter like a gift from G-d. He only had to look through two cupboards before finding the coffee grounds and cups, and he set about making it, humming Chelsea Hotel #2 very loudly to himself. Once done, he sat upon the counter, impatiently watching it percolate.

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mouette_mots
Jan. 28th, 2007 05:44 am (UTC)
Jeannot peered into the fridge from behind Holmes. "Food?" he responded uncertainly -- much of it was unfamiliar to him. He reached in hesitantly to draw out a paper carton. "Milk," he said, reading the side of the package, and looked up with wonder. "In a container of paper?"

Jeannot shrugged and set the milk aside, peering inside the fridge again. "Apples," he said, looking delighted. "Fresh ones, aimé. And... more fruit, and some vegetables, and..." He pulled out a loaf of bread in a clear bag that crinkled at him, looking at it in curiosity. "Is this bread?" he asked, unsure. "What is it wrapped in?" He poked at the plastic, eyes widening when it bent but didn't break. "It is like glass made into cloth," he said, eyeing the package with mistrust.

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holmes, oscar, byron, nineteenth century
byronic_cravat
The Byronic Cravat

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