The Blind Librarian

Dawn

Steam rose gently from the kettle as it began to boil. Maria came to from distant thoughts, and realised she hadn't got a cup out, nor tea. She found a decently large mug, and then began rifling through the cupboards for teabags, racing against the kettle.
The kettle won, and Maria cursed wildly. Most people were surprised by the apparent discrepancy between her generally refined appearance and ability to be incredibly foul-mouthed when irritated. She pressed her hands to her forehead and tried to wish her way out of having to go and buy more tea, which didn't work.

The already humid morning air clung to her skin as she locked the back door, went carefully down the fire escape to ground level and made her uncertain way to the nearest supermarket. She found teabags - not the ones she wanted - and discovered a decent brand of gin on half price. The cashier gave her a very odd look. Only when she got back to her own kitchen did she realise that buying alcohol at ten in the morning was probably worthy of a strange look. She was too tired to care, so she just put a teabag in the mug, put the gin in a cupboard and flicked the switch on the kettle again.

The small kitchen was decidedly underwhelming, Maria mused as she waited for the click to herald boiling water. She didn't think herself to have overly high standards, but the previous residents hadn't done much with it, and had taken the cooker with them. The building had changed hands so many times in the last few years that the deeds were a good inch thick, and no one had stayed long enough to invest in anything. White PVC, worn lino, an electric kettle and a slightly dodgy fridge were all that furnished the little room.

Maria was determined that it would be her underwhelming kitchen.