Coffee time

Sunday late afternoon.

She takes a brief nap and wakes up to a sound in her kitchen. Probably just that cat, she assumes. And that is the nature’s special way to wake me up because my favorite coffee time has just arrived, she continues assuming. So she gets up and goes to the kitchen, preparing to make some coffee, without sugar.

She loves to drink coffee without sugar at such Sunday afternoon as much as she loves to drink warm lemon juice without sugar every morning before she has her breakfast. Yes, without sugar. She has been convinced that coffee, lemon juice or green tea is best sipped as it is. Putting anything else in the drink will only ruin its original rich taste. Additional ingredients may create artificial taste.

One of the ways to appreciate life is to enjoy everything as it is, because additional emotions may give you artificial feelings. That’s what she often says when her friends seek comfort in her words.

The room is warm.

She notices as she prepares her coffee that nothing is misplaced in the kitchen, so she forgets about her assumption of the cat and boils some water.

White kitchen window.

She can see through it, a leaf of an apple tree that she planted a couple of years earlier. Everything in the universe is alive, from the gigantic cumulonimbus cloud to a falling leaf. So she finds herself naturally talking to the leaf as it falls down slowly to the ground. The ground is your home, little leaf. The ground is your home. And now the time has come for you to tell the ground about your glorious adventure while you were growing so green in the open air. The leaf finally lands on the ground, gracefully. It says, “Yes, my dear. Now.”

The kitchen table is at the right corner of the room.

She places two cups of hot coffee on it. There is nobody else at home. Her grandfather is out having his routine afternoon walk and won’t be returning for the next two hours. Yet she places two cups of coffee on the kitchen table. The door is open.

***

Open air. Open sea. 

It’s been three months. He gains a lot of fortune in merely three months. He swims, he dives, he sails. He’s truly alive. It’s the longest sailing time for him, yet he feels really good about himself. I’m at the peak now and so this is where I must end, he thinks.

The boat is anchored.

He starts to walk a long long way. He prefers to walk as he can recollect pieces of her along the way. How she served breakfast for him silently before he went sailing. How he knows by heart that she always trusts him and prays for him although he never left a word or a kiss when he pushed the door open that day.

***

The kitchen door is open.

He sees it. Several meters away. It’s a matter of second now before I present this fortune, his mind speaks as he puts his hand into his pocket.  And it’s a matter of second now before these two cups of coffee get too cold, her mind speaks. It’s always theirs. The mind conversation. That’s why people in the neighborhood call them soul mates.

The air is filled with the sweet smell of baked muffins, and coffee.
He walks closer.

***

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m here.”

“I know. “

“Wonderful smell. Muffins, I suppose.”

“And coffee too. How was your adventure?”

“The greatest ever.”

“Have you done with it?”

“About to start another. With you.”

He takes his hand out of the pocket.

He ties her hand with a chain of pearl bracelet.