It might have been more annoying, the way Moreau and Sokolov both were constantly trying to get more breakfast in her, if the food hadn"t been so good. The coffee had nothing in it, no sugar or syrups or even cream, but the rich roasted flavor needed no such adornment. And the caffeine hit her with surgical precision, clearing the sleep from her tired brain without making her hands shake or her teeth chatter.
And plain toast with butter had no reason to be such a distraction. But it had been a long time since she"d had butter made from cows she could walk over and visit if she wanted to. The freshness made a difference. It was almost as if she could taste the grasses and flowers of her home world there in that creamy yellow butter. And it melted into all the nooks of the sourdough bread w
