Читать книгу Two Trees Make a Forest - Jessica J. Lee - Страница 22

5

AT FIVE IN THE MORNING, IN THE HAZE-BLUE period before light catches the mountains, I shuffle off the futon bed and onto the floor next to me. The others still sleep—their breaths catching every so often on their journeys toward waking—as I lace my boots and zip up my fleece, tracking my way silently to the door on rubber-soled tiptoes. The latch is dew-covered, and my hand slips as I press the door shut behind me.

The vale hangs heavy with clouds, and in that blue light, at the right angle, everything glistens. The deepest gash of the slopes is still shadowed, but in minutes the contours of the peaks grow haloed. Sun creeps into the morning around the eastern hillside and onto the terrace on which I stand, slightly chilled but warming at the thought of breakfast to come: coffee and steaming congee with salted turnip omelet.