5:28

Gareth checked his Facebook before he was really awake. He’d grabbed his phone and seen a little red 1 beside the Facebook icon, so he’d pushed it to see whether it was anything interesting. The first thing to pop up was a link from Shayne, an old high school bud, about a new Greek restaurant called Spiros. Unusually for him, he hit the link.

Gareth really wasn’t a social network kind of guy. The noise to signal ratio was too big these days and he couldn’t be bothered sorting through the crap. But he still kept up enough to see how the family was doing and check on the few friends he cared to keep up with. He almost never clicked on anything.

Spiros’ web page popped up with a big advertisement promising good times, a great atmosphere and delicious food. Apparently the special tonight was Stifado, a spiced rabbit stew.

“Maybe Rowan is interested in some Hasenpfeffer,” he murmured to himself sleepily. “Gotta remember to ask.” He dropped the phone on the bed and rolled to his feet. A few seconds of rubbing his eyes and stretching his back and he popped up and headed for the bathroom.

“Time to start the day,” he informed the picture of John Lennon on the wall in the hallway. John, as usual, didn’t have much to say to that. Gareth figured it was because John just wasn’t as much of a morning person as he was.

He started up the shower and smiled into the dirty mirror. “Wascally wabbit!” He push aside the shower curtain climbed over the side of the tub. “Figaro… Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaroooo …”