Learning to Slow Down

Ernest discovered the following morning that a single kiss could fundamentally reorganize the tactical behavior of an entire household.

He descended the grand staircase at quarter past eight, dressed in a fresh wool coat, fully anticipating a quiet breakfast of eggs, toast, and the morning's raw material requisitions. Instead, he crossed the threshold into the sunlit dining room to find Anna, Victor, and Hollen already gathered at the table in eerie, synchronized formation.

All three heads turned toward him in absolute unison.

Ernest halted mid-stride on the carpet.

Dead silence filled the room.

He narrowed his eyes, assessing the hostile alignment before him. "No."

Anna offered a smile of pristine, angelic innocence. "I have not uttered a single syllable, darling."

"Your posture is loud enough to be heard in the stables, Mother."