Pouring two cups of coffee, she headed for the living room.
The generally regular flowers are completely open only in bright sunshine, closing up into cups at other times.
They entered a dark dining hall, where a pot of tea and two tea cups sat waiting for them next to a carafe of amber alcohol at the table nearest the entrance.
Five cups of coffee later and a full Irish breakfast --without the blood pudding --settling in her stomach, she still couldn't shake the throb.
Pillows passed as chairs, and bowls as cups.
