I made brown bread, the way my mother taught me to bake it. It will go well with any other food, whether it's sliced into sandwiches or sopped into gravy. For a potluck, I think it'll go over well. It's not exactly pretty or particularly unique, but I hope its taste will make up for that.

Likewise, I'm dressed simply and I'm only realizing now that black and gray might be my automatic colors, but I'm left plain at best and funereal at worst. Not exactly the mood the party seems to set with all of the fairy lights and laughter.

I put down my bread and hesitate, wondering if I should hurry back to my apartment downstairs and find something in my closet that hints toward festive. Maybe I'll even find some of that eyeliner that Christina said made me so striking.