C
Claudia Santana


This short story is dedicated to all coffee lovers that shared the passion with one or more members of your family. I'm still new and have lots of things to learn during the journey of writing.


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Just Coffee


Oh, sweet nectar from the Gods! You’re beautiful in every shape you take

while you’re being poured in different mugs. Some of them reveal the nature of the liquid by changing color, but traditional keep you as a secret only being noticed by the steam you emanate and sometimes being confused with other hot drinks.


Here I am, sitting as a complete mess in a cafeteria from the center of the city at 6:00 AM. Streets look like graveyards due the early time. People is still not up to go to their daily duties at their offices. Just with a messed bun, sweatpants, a big sweater and sneakers to keep myself warm because it started to rain not that long ago. The wind screams while the petrichor reveals its presence in the ambiance.


I was told a coffee can reveal more than we think. When I was a child my

grandmother told me, she would read the coffee cup for me before her death. She explained when I finished drinking it due to an old belief that only right after the liquid has been drunk, a seer will reveal for you the first letter of the name of the person you will marry in the future, but she died before she could proceed with the ritual. My eyes are filled with tears because of some classic music being played by the radio. Same as dad used to enjoy when he was still among us.


This drink is loved by almost everyone from the world. Brings a good memory as making you wake up before starting your journey at work to a path of relaxation when you’re already home covered with a big and comfy blanket.


One of my most valued memories was being next to dad in the kitchen. I know, it sounds very basic, but that always meant everything for me. He was teaching me on how to do the best coffee since I had never tasted one like that till the date of today. I’ll never forget the loving face he had while was giving me directions on how to mix the ingredients. For the ones that are feeling confused, no, this was not something like a normal coffee. We used to include specific and not very common ingredients to it that will create a great flavor. He used to be very smart due to his experience as chef.


Dad was teaching me properly. We had an old Italian stove coffee maker. I still have one of his coffee makers saved as memory. He gave it to my mom before his death.


The ingredients were:


-Purified water. A good quantity since we were heavy coffee drinkers together.


-Ground coffee. Santo Domingo was his favorite brand. During that time, it was a strong ground coffee, so we never added too much due to my low caffeine

tolerance.


-Nutmeg: The key was to buy it whole and grind it ourselves.


-Some vanilla. Usually I like to add 4 or 5 drops since I like the flavor.


The stove coffee maker was sealed after we added these ingredients and placed on the stove. Lowest flame so we had the chance the coffee slowly takes all scents.


I was taught to take the mugs we were going to drink the coffee from and add some milk (I used to add it only for me since dad preferred strong American coffee), plus a long cinnamon stick. Then we placed them into the freezer until the coffee was ready to serve. We poured it in our mugs and added sugar as we liked. Owing to the mugs being very cold, it was ready to drink almost immediately and tasted like “home”.


Two years have passed after his departure. Not that long ago was raining too. I was at home with my mother and my dog. I was all happy in the kitchen preparing coffee and when I noticed I was doing it again; many tears fell to the floor. The last person I prepared coffee for was dad. I kept crying while drinking the coffee. I could say is not the same without him, and is not the same taste since he’s never going to return to prepare it next to me, but I’m glad he shared so when I become a mother, with he same love I’ll prepare it with my kids.


Once I came back to my senses after being digging through my memories, I saw a man explaining his child how’s coffee made. Well, I think everyone links coffee with many experiences and I hope the kid develops beautiful reminders when he sees one of these cups, he can smile due to a beautiful spark of his past and experience.


-Depressed Silene

3 апреля 2020 г. 7:09 0 Отчет Добавить Подписаться
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