The world of man being often as incomprehensible as the world of heaven, all things considered as a whole, Linden has given up on reading for a little while and taking lunch in a room off the kitchen.
this typist missed this post entirely, and is trying not to fixate on how much she fails at life. excuse her.
Alyosha is pouring himself tea, a fruit tea he found in the cabinets with sugar -- there is still something in him that delights at sweet things, still the little boy whose brother remembers loved jam -- and he has a smile for Linden when he sees him, a nod and a kind "hello." (There is no one Alyosha doesn't have a smile for, after all -- or a little kindness.)
"Do you mind if I sit with you?" he asks, shy but somehow generous, too. "I still don't know many people here, and you seem ... forgive me, if you'd rather be left alone ... but seem like a good person to pass the time across from."
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Alyosha is pouring himself tea, a fruit tea he found in the cabinets with sugar -- there is still something in him that delights at sweet things, still the little boy whose brother remembers loved jam -- and he has a smile for Linden when he sees him, a nod and a kind "hello." (There is no one Alyosha doesn't have a smile for, after all -- or a little kindness.)
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"Hello," Linden says, looking up; he also smiles, and his voice is soft and warm like milk.
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