Dishes. Toaster. Coffee. Napkins.

Her breakfast routine was always the same. She performs it today as she did on so many days before, and as she would on every day for the rest of her years.

She brushes the tablecloth clean, while she waits for the coffee. She quietly assembles everything: sugar, milk, scones, jam. She does not speak.

She painstakingly sets two places, attentive to every detail. Her cup of coffee would receive two spoonfuls of sugar. The far cup would receive three. Always three.

The toaster signals that breakfast is ready. She pours the coffee, lays out the food, and sits down at the table alone.