"Is coffee already made?" says Sheila.
"It´s in the kitchen." She goes into the kitchen and I can hear her chatting with Melissa and Carol, simply to say good morning and how lovely that they are making apple pies. Carl has just said good morning, Sheila, and Sarah has mumbled something. But she is brief. This woman seems to be very economical with words.. She returns, a full mug of coffee in one hand and half full pot in the other. Without asking, she refills our mugs, returns the pot to the kitchen, where Carol seems to be wanting to detain her. She is talking about apples, and I can hear Sheila mention a tree that once grew in her back yard in Vancouver that produced the most fantastical golden apples. She abruptly ends her sentence and returns to the breakfast room.
"They are making us a huge vat of hot cocoa", she says, retaking her seat. "But first I need to wake up."
"How long have you lived here?" I ask.
"Must be around ten years", she says.
"You came around the same time as Glen?"
"We all came at once. All in one batch."
"Instant community", says Glen.
"That's right. You all lived on the island beforehand."
"And then they were going to bulldoze the place for condominiums", says Sheila. "We all wanted to stay together, and then this place came up."
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