He woke up in the Chalet not knowing exactly how they’d gotten back to Interlaken. He had a vague memory of mondern trains and graffitti streaking past rain-wet windows. He’d been dreaming he was in a silent movie eating a shoe and he turned to find her snoring and said,” I’m hungry.”
“Make breakfast,” she said and went back to snoring and so he did. It was then that he remembered the bells chiming at midnight and kissing her and the smell of her hair and he knew all at once that he loved her impossibly and that since it was impossible to quantify, he got out of bed and made them breakfast hoping that the eggs could say something that he himself found impossible to say… maybe if he were a poet and not hung over and if he used Swiss Cheese it would tell her just how much.
