One plate, one glass. One set of silverware; knife, spoon, fork. One napkin, one coffee cup. Everywhere she looked, there was one. Nothing more, nothing less.
Wake up, start the coffee, pour one cup. One bowl of cold cereal, one bagel. One glass of icy grape juice. Tara loved grape juice.
She also loved sunlight coming in the window, setting off small rainbows in the glasses and off the cupboard doors.
But Tara wasn’t here anymore.
One place set at the small table, one peach rose in a vase gracing the center.
But there were two chairs, surprisingly. No one ever came to visit her, anymore.
But Tara always told her, no matter what, “I’m here with you.”