Cent et Un Mots par Jour

It's cold this morning. I exhale a little white cloud. The sky is still dark outside, and the bright light in the kitchen hurts my eyes. I blink. I sigh. My eyelids keep falling. I'm not sure my mind is awake yet. I need something black and strong. I brew some coffee. The earthy smell fills the kitchen. I pour some in a large mug, and take it in my hands. Its warmth revives my numb fingers. I breathe in its bitterness. I gulp its strength. In the quietness of this winter morning, hot coffee is my ally, and I cherish it. I finish the cup and put it in the sink. Brown stains on the lid are proof of the need I have for coffee so early in the morning. The yellow smiley face on the cup bids me a good day.

Claire Annovazzi