Jentacular

Soothed by breakfast

When I can’t sleep, I think about breakfast.

Specifically, a single breakfast. A few years ago, I was in Switzerland for a magazine assignment. An airplane from Los Angeles, a train from Zurich, a dirty commuter bus up into the Alps. I reached my inn late in the evening. The night was twinkling. All around were immense walls of snow. The hotel, in the c…