Wednesday morning had that soft, diffused quality that comes from overcast skies. Not the heavy grey of storm clouds, but a light, milky covering that would probably burn off once the sun got properly started. Still 5:30 AM the garden looked pale and gentle in the filtered light.

The robin was balancing precariously on the washing line, wings spread slightly for stability as it bobbed up and down with the slight breeze. After a moment, it seemed to decide the washing line wasn't worth the effort and flew off towards the silver birch.

I filled my glass with water and flicked on the kettle. Wednesday meant porridge, reliable, warming, and perfect for a morning that couldn't quite decide what it wanted to be. The shower was running upstairs; Dave was already up and about his routine.

The radio crackled to life as I measured the oats into the saucepan.

"Now, we've got some rather concerning news this morning," Gary's voice had lost its usual manic cheerfulness. "Our friends with the telescopes have been plotting the course of our approaching comet, and they're now expressing some concern about just how close to Earth it might pass. The press release is... well, it's a bit vague, really. I'm not sure if that means it's going to look even more spectacular than we thought, or if the vagueness suggests something a bit more sinister. But it can't be that bad, or they'd tell us straight off the bat... right?"

There was an uncomfortable pause before Gary seemed to shake himself out of his concerns.

"But anyway, moving swiftly on!" His voice bounced back to its usual enthusiasm. "It's Wednesday, downhill to the weekend! And speaking of that comet, I'm still hyped that it's going to be even closer, meaning an even better lightshow for us all to enjoy!"

I stirred the porridge as it began to thicken, listening to Gary's determined optimism.

"We have Jessie from Shoebury on the line. Jessie, are you looking forward to the comet?"

"What comet?" came a genuinely confused voice.

Gary's laugh was perhaps a bit too loud. "Oh Jessie, so funny! Classic Jessie! What can I do for you today, my love?"

"I'm not your love," Jessie replied flatly. "Can you play 'Starlight' by Muse?"

"Anything for someone who makes me laugh so much! Let's go!"

You could hear voices in the background, it sounded like Jessie's mate was asking if she knew Gary. Just as the song was starting, you could make out Jessie saying "never spoke to the weirdo before" before the line cut off.

The distinctive bass line of 'Starlight' filled the kitchen, and I found myself tapping my foot to the rhythm, nodding my head in time with the music. It was actually quite good, those lads from Muse knew how to craft a tune. But when the singer reached the line "Far away from the memories of the people who care if I live or die," I felt the song lose its rhythm for me, not after... I subconsciously reached for the radio dial and turned it off as I looked up, noticing the stain on the ceiling again.

The stain on the ceiling. Sometimes it seemed worse than others, which was odd. Today it looked quite pronounced; I'd always thought it resembled the face of Jesus, all serene and virtuous. Dave, of course, insisted it looked like a cat's butthole, which rather took the spiritual significance out of it.

I spooned my porridge into a bowl, adding a drizzle of honey. I'd just settled at the table when Dave appeared in the doorway, fresh from his shower and looking surprisingly alert for a Wednesday morning. His zebra onesie was properly arranged, and he carried what appeared to be a steaming mug of milky coffee, proper white coffee though not in a mug I’d ever seen before.

He sat down across from me, took a contented sip of his coffee, and gazed out at the pale morning sky. The robin had returned and was now pecking about on the lawn. Dave looked out at the milky sky, I just knew another morning philosophy was about to emerge.

"You know," Dave said, setting down his mug with the satisfied air of someone who'd just made a profound meteorological discovery, "I like to think clouds are just sky sheep and rain is their pee."

I put my spoon down in my porridge with a clink.

"What the fuck, Dave?!"