Crack. Sizzle. Pan-fried good mornings float into the bedroom. An aroma that smells a lot like productivity – and expectations. Runny yolks drip promises of anticipation onto bread smeared soft by buttery platitudes. “You’ll do great!” “They’ll love you!” It sticks going down. She says “Good morning.” I hear “The end.”

Claire is a fiction writer based out of several coffee shops around the globe.