Remut

I am sitting in an ill-defined (dreamescape) cafeteria space with the lady Cee Cee from my work (and 2 to 3 a.n.others). We seem to be discussing cheesecake – has someone brought one in to work? - and it looks like Cee Cee has missed the opportunity to grab a slice. It just so happens I have a triangular slice of my own which, as it happens, is both homemade and half-eaten. I offer the remaining half to Cee Cee. She really doesn't know what to say. I mention that it was made by my mother-in-law and that, “I'm pretty sure I don't have Coronavirus.” (Is my little brother there, disapproving?) Besides all this I am somewhat concerned as I have a small kitchen knife with me, a 3 inch sharp blade into a rubbery burgandy handle. It is wrapped loosely in a crumb filled paper napkin-

I am preparing to do the washing up and I lift a mug from the basin to turn it the correct way up. It spills a mix of granola cereal and cooked rice with turmeric onto the (white) worktop – I curse myself for not attending to it earlier. Is my brother again present, scoffing at me? I hurry to scoop up the rice from the worktop (which has a sort of odd, inset plughole too) and notice that it is already leaving spotted yellow stains-