>>5145978>>5146074You settle upon getting some gourmet salmon and rosemary, on a veg of assorted vegetables. Thinking that a wine might pair nicely with it, you snag a bottle of red to top off as well. Before hitting the checkout you remember that you're no longer an adult, at least externally and will undoubtedly be questioned at with a bottle of wine in your right hand. Irregardless, considering you've lifted steaks before, a bottle shouldn't be all that hard.
You arrive home soon after, and get busy cooking. When you ask your mother to join you in cooking she agrees, albeit a little hesitant The two of you build up a rhythm again, similar to in the soup kitchen, with her preparing the veg with a little dressing, and you cooking the salmon and plating everything up to look all fancy-like. At least as fancy as you can get in somewhere that's halfway to being a crackhouse.
Sitting down, you both eat the meal with a glass of wine each accompanying it. The wine certainly compliments the flavours of the salmon well, and you're eager to cook something similar again. Maybe something with a red wine deglaze. You glance at your mother, who's utterly indulging herself in the salmon, along with occasional, respectful sips from the wineglass. She gives off the impression that she hasn't eaten a proper cooked meal in a long time. She catches you eye, and through a smile asks where you learned how to do all this, a beam of pride and excitement dancing in her soul. As you're about to answer however, a wracking pain hits your head yet again, similar to last time.
Fishing TV dinners from a fridge, the same one as in the house. Waiting for the oven to ding. The clock looks about 10-ish. No mother in sight. You hope she makes it back tonight.
The vision begins to shake more and more, as you snap back to reality. Your mother is shaking your hand, asking if you're okay. You lie and tell her you'd just been a bit winded by the wine. She remarks that it's your first time, and that you ought to take it easy. After the meal, you clean up, wash up the dishes and head to your room. Looking at your body there has been substantial improvement. Your arms no longer resemble twigs, but solid and sturdy branches, the sort that might have been used to craft a longbow or a club. It's nothing massive or excessive, but you can feel the strength in your arms, something completely new to you. As you rest, something seems odd as your dream seems to be flooded progressively with a white light. It's not a harsh light, in fact it's warm and feels like a cool summer day. A voice, ethereal and echoing, booms out to you from somewhere indiscernible.
"Do not forget that you travel further every step you take."
You wake up in the morning feeling oddly drained despite the full meal. What a weird dream.
Seeing that you have a few spare hours before your shift, do you:
>Talk to your mother about something, if so what?>Try and run the local park calisthenics circuit.>Write in. 
