The next morning Bruce was woken by sunlight streaming in through the front window. One of the women had drawn the drapes and was standing there, framed by the sunlight. He blinked and shielded his eyes from the glare.
Eventually the spots coalesced into the familiar shape of blonde Alice, gazing out the window.
“Hey,” mumbled Bruce.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” said Alice, glancing at him. “It’s almost eight-thirty. Trudy told me to wake you. She’s gone to get some coffee and muffins for us so we can hit the rode and go to the shop Sharon used to work at, as soon as it opens.”
Bruce nodded and sat up. He placed both hands over his eyes and rubbed the sleep from them. Grunting, he stood and walked into the small bathroom. He needed his morning constitutional before breakfast. A lifetime
