“FIRE”, Miguel screamed as he (miraculously) jumped out of bed. Waking up in the mornings it’s never easy for him, it usually requires small amounts of violence, a bucket of water and multiple threats. But as his extremely powerful nose inhaled the smoke, he ran for his life through the corridors of his house, only to stop at the kitchen——
“Where?”, Manuel calmly asks as he turns the omelette around inside the frying pan.
They awkwardly stare at each other for a while. Breakfast continues to smell like disaster and tears.
“I should probably put down the extinguisher now, right.”
“I hate you.”
