The scent of freshly cut lawn wafted through the open windows on what most certainly proclaimed itself as a perfect day.

I walked out onto the porch to retrieve the morning paper, only to be greeted by the neighbor’s cat, who, in the past few months, had made itself a fixture on our steps. The feline greeted me with a large yawn and reared its rump to stretch in its small spot of early sun.

“Rough night, mmm? I really should consider charging you rent.”

Unsurprised by the sound of my voice, the cat closed its eyes sleepily, dismissing any further conversation between us.

“Bah. I’m not that boring.” I chided the animal as I walked back into the house, intent on breakfast. I hadn’t noticed the acrid smell of burnt bread until Annie set a plate of what looked like ash before me.

“New recipe?”

I picked up the coffee cup that accompanied the dish and took a sip, trying to hide my playful smirk.