"Morning." There is no change in the movement so I can't figure out if he is talking to me or not. His back is to me and he keeps about his plan of action. I take a chance and answer.
"Morning?" Stretching I take a quick assessment of my body, no pain, no stiffness no chills or shakes. Confusion is all around me.
"Good morning, black?" his voice is even and casual like he has been through this a time or two. This how the fuck did I get there trance.
"Um no, I don't do coffee," my voice is clear as it always is since my recovery. I am shocked by that. "um, tea please, any kind if you have it." I hear the kettle, like and old fashion on the stove kind, whistle.
He keeps moving about and I watch as he pours the hot water in an awaiting cup and moves another to the sink.
His face is in a frozen state of calm. His mannerisms don't change one iota. This has to be some weird trip I'm on.
"What day is it?" I'm scared to ask but what the hell, if it is a trip I will get some trippy answer like 'orange' and I can go from there.
"Well Adam is singing to me, so it must be Sunday." very strange answer yes, but the tone has me knowing it is not a bad trip.
"What happened to Friday and Saturday?" I dare the dreaded questions I usually avoid. Usually I ask get the answer on the day and make my way without another word. Let me say finding your way out of a strange neighborhood is always a hoot and a half.
"Well Friday was the usual, going over progress reports with a nice fish and Saturday was three hours at the gym followed by a movie with a bottle of wine, followed by a good book on my tablet. For you.." I'm not sure I want to hear anymore. It seemed sad, not my lack of knowledge but how stuck he seems.
"What, really what did I do?" I ask just to get him out of his anxious look that seemed to disrupt his peaceful look from before.
