I just poured the water. What follows these words will be the sweet release of Coffee.
The smell enters my nose and promises a full day of work to come, blissfully ignoring this busy morning that preceded it. No milk, nothing sweet as sugar will sully this relationship the black brewing beans and I have.
My shoulders clench in anticipation at the mild dehydration i will soon experience, and know that after the week that I’ve had… No coffee will be strong enough. They know, even if I don’t that Coffee is but a broken promise to me. I need less, not more. More will never be close to enough.
Too bad shoulders. My time is up. Coffee embrace me. I meet you with my waiting lips…
...and promptly burn my tongue.
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