The breakfast cart being
wheeled into the ward was the most welcome sight Trevor could remember. It meant morning had arrived;
he would soon be released. Removing his headphones, Trevor sat up
in the hard-as-concrete bed and attempted to mound his pillows into
something comfortable and supportive. The pillows had other ideas.
After doing the best he could, Trevor reclined and awaited the
culinary delights that would be breakfast. His cynicism was not
disappointed. The offerings were bread and butter with either
marmalade or jam. They didn’t run to toast. He was also offered a
bowl of cold cereal. The only items that were above room
temperature were tea or coffee. He’d sampled the tea the evening
before, so chose a cup of coffee. On tasting the bland beverage,
obviously made fro
