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"I thought they were spring mushrooms."
Miles stops breaking up his bread in the soup, but he doesn't look at her anyway.
"No, they arrive just after the summer, but then stay until November." he replies, in a perfectly neutral tone. This is the kind of conversation they can have over a meal, distant and impersonal and objective, of facts they both know. Trivial.
"Hm. They are only seen for a few months, then."
"In America only for a few days. Finding them in a supermarket is a challenge."
Just for a few days. Only a few times a year.
"Maybe you would find more in Europe, kleiner bruder."

