A waft of warm sugar welcomes me into work – Graham always makes sure that they are just out of the oven. The gentle heat from the paper wrapper gives comfort on a cold day.
I would know Graham was there before he even said hello. It wasn’t just the smell of the doughnuts, but the shower gel he always used, and the way he would walk into a room (stealthily pushing the door open). A gentle squeak, followed by his trainers on the wood panels.
Another clue was the coffee beans – they tasted bitter on my tongue even before I drank the coffee. Sometimes I pretended not to hear him, that I was to engrossed in my typing, but I always sensed he was there.
Now I have to live without him, and I’m not sure I can do it. Since the day I identified his body, my senses are dulled. I can’t think straight, and food no longer has any taste – everything leaves a bitter taste.