Day Twenty-Six

At 6am the house still smells of yesterday's salmon smoke, even after three sticks of lavender incencse, even after a whole day, it is still there to welcome me when I open the front door; a guest that has overstayed its welcome, like garlic in your mouth in the morning. The only thing for it is to roast a fat, hopefully once happy chicken, with a spitting lemon oozing inside, making the oven sing and leaving a new perfume for us to come down to in the morning.