Taylor
I wake to the bright light because of the blinds I forgot to close and the smell of breakfast drifting from the kitchen. I'm not a morning person, but the smells are enticing me from my cozy bed. I quickly pee, wash my face and hands, run a brush through my hair, then pad slowly to a kitchen island barstool.
Kennedy stands dressed for the day at the stove. I smell bacon and see her flip an omelet as I nibble on the fresh fruit in the center of the island.
“Good Morning," I mumble in greeting to Kennedy's back.
“Good Morning," she returns, turning with a smile. She fetches a bowl of yogurt to join the fruit. “Bacon will be ready in a minute. You can make some toast with peanut butter." Kennedy points towards a loaf of bread and peanut butter next to the toaster. She remembers I d
