Pea leans over and places a gentle kiss on her partner s forehead, smelling the fragrant aroma of the honey Faith uses to wash her hair. She watches as her hands rake through the disheveled bob atop her friend s head. Although it smells inviting, it feels wiry and brittle. In a little while, hon. Right now I d like for you to read me the paper.
Pea leaves the room and walks down the corridor.
She notes to herself how it reminds her of a gallery, the walls being covered with numerous paintings of landscapes as well as dozens of family portraits. It s too sad she can t see these for herself. The words fall from her mouth, heavy with condolence. She retrieves the paper from the glass table at the base of the steps. Kathy, the lady who has been cleaning for Faith for ages, had put it there earlier that morning.