Bree's casserole dish had been gathering dust in your kitchen for long enough.

You made your way across the street, dish in hand. Only a moment was spent admiring her hydrangeas before you knocked on her door.

Bree wouldn't be annoyed. You knew she was much too neighbourly for that. She'd greet you with a smile, maybe invite you in for coffee, and...

"What?"

Came Bree's exasperated voice. Her casserole dish nearly slipped from your hands in your shock.

Your usually neat and proper neighbour stood before you in a robe, her hair tousled, and the scent of alcohol on her breath. Her expression was no more pleasant.

Generally, you'd assume she was only so out of it due to illness - maybe even hangover if she'd been entertaining guests the night before. The stench of alcohol, though, told you otherwise. Was she.. drunk? This early in the day?