Chapter 22
Chapter 22 - Brown Butter
18 min read
The sky was still gray when Alex opened his eyes. Five-thirty. Maybe earlier. The cabin was cool. The blanket smelled like Maya. Like the oak. Like grass and sweat and something he couldn't name but would remember in winter.
He sat up. His hand was healed. The scar on his palm was pale pink, a thin line where the piece of fence wire had gone in. He flexed his fingers. Everything worked.
He pulled on shorts and a t-shirt and walked to the kitchen. The path was damp. Dew on everything. The commune was quiet. No steam from the hot tub. No voices. Just birds and the creek somewhere below.
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