The Peacock 1525

I am the only one up this morning, and I am holding vigil at the kitchen table, mug full of hot strong coffee and plate with three slices of toast and a jar of peanut butter and a jar of strawberry jam. I might go to church. It's Sunday. St Jude's maybe, or maybe the united Church down the street, or st Anselm's Anglican across the way. I haven't been to a proper church service in a while. I seem to have slept enough. Before the episode with Jesús last night I had already had nearly six hours, since I'd gone to bed early, and then another hour and a half for catch up. All good. I might wake him up and invite him to church with me. I did promise to spend the day with him today, and yes, without thinking further, with toast and jam and peanut butter morphing into a disgusting mass inside my mouth, here I am at his door, knocking lightly...