Rice crispies hit the bottom of the bowl, followed by the cool white milk which splits the gathered masses and washes them around the curved ceramic.
Tea that has stewed nicely is poured into a waiting cup. No milk at this time because he might be slightly late. The sugar bowl sits newly filled, just in case.
The fried items are ready but the eggs will wait so they are at their freshest and anyway, she does love a flourish.
Everything is just as it should be.
She settles down to wait for them.
They never come.
They never have.