Lyron prepared a Thanksgiving meal for us yesterday.
It was really nice to have a meal that size again. Since I've been on my own, it's actually been years since I've eaten like that. We had turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, a bit of ham, stuffing, cranberry sauce...the works for your typical Thanksgiving meal. Before eating, we all went around the table stating what we were thankful for. It wasn't hard to come up with something. We're all just thankful that somehow, against all odds, we're still alive.
But it worries me. Not the meal. Not Lyron, since I'm pretty confident by this point that she really does care for us in her own way. The thing that worries me are how good things are.
Wayward mentioned on her blog that things are, if you'll pardon the cliche, quiet. Too quiet. I agree. Everything is too good. It's like the calm before the storm. You just can't have nice things when dealing with the Fears.
So Wayward and I have packed. We're ready for when everything hits the fan and we have to take off running again. We're going to enjoy these little luxuries for as long as we can, and I think Lyron would be offended if we bolted before we have to (and while I don't like trusting Lyron, I like offending her even less). But we're ready to run the minute we need to.