Alex lay on the sofa in the living room, conjuring up images of her young naked body. He would gladly have joined her in the shower right now, but something still stood between them, keeping them apart. His eyes closed and he nodded off. Naomi appeared in his dream. Pale linoleum. A dark pool of blood spreading out around her. He opened his eyes, shaken and horrified. God, how long would it go on? He got up and went into the kitchen. The last vestiges of daylight cast a blue tinge over the wooden floorboards. A soft, comforting snow was falling. He ground fresh coffee beans. Then he packed down the grounds with the tamper and slowly lowered the lever of the La Pavoni machine. Thick, speckled espresso dripped into the cup, suffusing the air with a heady aroma. In the stainless-steel jug, milk gurgled and frothed. Jane joined him, fresh and sweet smelling, her wet hair combed back. She sliced an onion, beat eggs in a bowl, and started frying a thick omelet. Alex got cheese and sausage from the refrigerator.
