Despite a sour sensation in his stomach and aching muscles, Floyd rose with the sun, hoping to fix Stanley a breakfast tray before Cleta caught the scent of his secret. He wasn’t fast enough. “Mornin’, Floyd.” Cleta wandered into the kitchen, scratching her chin and yawning. Curlers sprouted from her head like pink bean pods. Floyd whirled from the microwave, hot water splashing from his mug onto his hand. “Good grief, woman! What’d you mean, sneaking up on me like that?” Giving him a dour look, his wife plugged in the percolator. “Since when does coming into the kitchen constitute sneaking up on you?” “You scared the willies out of me.” Setting the cup on the table, Floyd dropped in a tea bag, then stirred in three heaping teaspoons of sugar. Cleta watched, her eyes as wide as boiled eggs. “Why are you drinking tea, Floyd?” “No special reason.” Floyd dropped the spoon as heat crept up his neck. “Just had a notion for a cup of hot tea. Is that a crime?”
What do You think about A Warmth In Winter (2010)?
