The Coffee Narratives

(Part 1) 2/22/10

All he wanted was a cup of coffee. That is all. Nothing more than just that utter bitterness that, when pressed against the lips and pallet, created a melting pot for all the emotions that make up happiness. It was 7:00 a.m. No one had been up, besides his girlfriend. The web of sleep still half covered his eyes and it was difficult to concentrate on what he must do. Disoriented in bed, his girlfriend goes to help him up by yelling obscenities, in hopes of blowing off his web-covered eyes herself. This aides him a little, but demoralizes his spirit to the point of loss. A loss of all concentration. What is it that he needed to concentrate on…? The coffee! He gathered himself at this remembrance and scurried across the bed to find his pants. Once on, he was free to begin his morning ritual. Unlock the bedroom door, enter the kitchen, clean the pot, fill the water, grab a filter, 4 rounded scoops, and switch on. Once the preparations were complete, it was time for him to do the most difficult part of his daily quest…wait.

To be continued…

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(Part 2) 3/16/10

The mistake had been made. He opened his eyes and looked around for the clock. Those two hands would sign to him exactly how foolish his folly had been. Thirty-three minutes! Much too long to have left his precious, black treasure unattended. Without a stretch, he rose from his cotton mistress and stumbled towards the door. On his venture to the door he noticed something. His girlfriend sat smug at her desk, a cup placed tenderly in her hands. No smoke rose from the cup that she held and he knew what this meant for his chances of bitter fulfillment. Her cup had been poured long ago. The heat no longer kept the black coffee mixed with the white creamer. The satisfaction of that first sip into hot bliss had been taken (and many after as well). Clinging to a filament of hope, he forced a bit of words through his dry throat.

“H- How many cups have you had…?” His stomach tightened as he waited for her reply. No answer could instill him with complete assurance that would be desirable. There was a chance at a whit of hope and only that.

“This is my first one. Why?”

There it was. The one answer that he needed to rally the strength in him to continue on with his existence. Besides, what is coffee but a tool used to remind us of our thoughts. Existentialism of the mind. Yes, he would complete his quest. He just knew it. He just had to…

To be continued…

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