this morning #238.

this morning, there was something vulnerable about the way he ate his blueberry scone. it was like he was afraid of the way it made him question his preference in pastries. a lifetime of glazed donuts & berry muffins had spoiled him. this morning, along came the scone with its stark british tone. it didn’t try to compete with his morning cappuccino like those sweet treats had always done. instead, it played the part of the trusty companion, a square pal with a dry wit who was there to enhance the experience without wanting to BE the experience. it was the dawn of a new day. no more of these shitty american breakfast treats. god save the queen.