It was still dark outside as Askatla finished her yoghurt and set the bowl in the sink. Slicing a bánh mì open lengthwise, she spread a rich pâté grand-mère on the bottom part followed by a butter and egg spread on the top. Both softened on contact with the bread, still warm from the baker’s boy’s thermal bag when he dropped it off as he did early every morning. Waking before the sun was not an abnormality this time of year, but in general, there was at least the hint of solar glow in the east by the time she…