November Themes: Coffee

Coffee, it's not just a drink to me. Without its intention and ritual, I can hardly finish a cup. I'm distracted, going about my day. At work with 10 kids to watch over, the cup sits forgotten on my desk, perhaps two sips before it's cold and ignored. I may heat it up several times throughout the morning, only to set it down, once again forgotten. I laugh at the end of my short workday, the coffee barely touched and no longer wanted. I admit it, I waste a lot of coffee on weekdays. Lately, I don't make it at all.

Coffee, for me, is an experience, it's a ritual. It's quiet. It's peace and silence. Sitting at my table, or sitting outside listening to the sounds of life around me. It's that quiet sigh of relief that I have a moment to myself after my children have left for school. It's my time, for my thoughts, my day's to-do list, daydreams, or just simply sleepy silence after a night of too-little sleep.

It's gathering with a friend and catching up, sharing our lives. It's laughter and stories, updates on kids and families. Coffee is togetherness, joy, or support and comfort. It's friendship and remembering. Coffee in these moments is joy-filled, and there's always time for a second cup.

My favorite cup of coffee, however, is once shared with my lover. It's caring, love, it's gratitude for one another. It's coffee-kisses, or perhaps left ignored on the nightstand while we touch. Or in-hand while we sit side by side reading books, or checking out social media, with only our feet touching. It's "I see you. I love you. Let me get you coffee." It's thank you, my love, for letting me stay warm-and-cozy on a crisp morning while you brave the daylight to bring us back that caffeine sustenance after a night of passion. It's my turn to treat you, handing you the warm cup with a smile that shows you my love for you.

I miss coffee. I mean, I leave it there, forgotten on my desk in the mornings. Memories of the past, the cup is full, just not quite as enjoyable or meaningful as in those moments of togetherness.

Nah, I'll save my coffee for those good moments. That ritual of self-care, that connection to friends, or the best cup, shared with my future love.

November Writings: A Story in Five Sentences (take two)

She jumped with fear at the sudden horrifying crash at the door, glass shattering everywhere, the grunts of someone, something breaking in. Her own screams filled her ears, as she dashed to the back of the small apartment, as far away as she could go from this noise, this terror. Everything around her moved in a strange slow motion, sounds were hollow, and she recognized this feeling, a nightmare that felt all too real. She ran to the bedroom, certain this would be the familiar bad dream she kept having; she would find herself there, sleeping, just as before, and she would again startle awake from this horrible nightmare. As she reached the doorway, the footsteps, the heavy breathing grew closer, and she saw that her bed was empty.

November Writings: A Story in Five Sentences

Jill looked at him as though he was a stranger, unrecognizable to her despite a lifetime together. She didn't know how things had gotten so bad, all she knew is she couldn't stay any longer. She leaned over, gently touching his hair, so as not to wake him, taking in this last memory of a man she no longer knew. She turned and walked out of the bedroom, picked up her bag and her car keys and left this place one last time. A single tear fell as she drove down the empty road.