The biggest cup of the coldest coffee untouched, is what remains after the night that was to be so eventful
One of my longest days was only a couple minutes. Then as the appointed time passed, days returned to minutes, minutes to seconds and seconds to moments as the slowed world realizing its error corrected it violently, carrying reality with it.
And reality crashed, into those who danced to the tune so elegantly played by the slowed world, like waves into a sand castle, like hurricane force winds into a tree that stood a little too high, like a speeding truck into a small car caught on the wrong side of the road a second too long.
It showed no mercy
“Big” was what the night should have been
“cup” was what I trapped myself in with only one way out, irresponsible for the out pour
“cold” was what the contents were not
“coffee” was what I did not need because it was going to happen at the time I anticipated it to…..
But here I am, hours later, awaken to and alone with this Big Cup of Cold Coffee……….
And I drink it!…..
Not because I need it,
Not because I spent my money on it,
Not because I feel obligated to do it,
But because it represents something I have never done before
“Big” was my idea and execution
“Cup” was what I put it in with only one way out
“cold” was how it somehow found another way out
“coffee” was the strong but sweet knowledge of my boldness and courage in doing something I have never done
You were the reason I took up my pen to write, but you are not the reason I can put it down smiling.
An unexpected experience from a Big Cup of Cold Coffee