August 28, 2007
Page 31
Once I'd ground the coffee beans, I discovered that what I'd really wanted was ice tea. I'm always realizing these things too late.
The transistor radio played harmless pop songs quite appropriate for mornings, one after another. Listening to those songs, I began to feel that the world hadn't changed at all in the last ten years. Only the singers and the names of the songs were different. And I was ten years older.
After ascertaining that the kettle had come to a boil, I turned off the gas. I let the water cool for thirty seconds and poured the water over the coffee grounds. The coffee slowly absorbed all the water it could, and its scent suffused through the room. Outside, an army of cicadas had begun to sing.
"You've been here since last night?" I asked, holding the kettle. Her hair nodded infintesimally on the table. "You've been waiting all night?" She didn't answer.
Between the steam of the kettle and the strong sunlight, the room was getting stuffy. I closed the window over the sink and switched on the air conditioner before lining up a couple of coffee cups on the table.
Posted by tim at August 28, 2007 11:55 PM
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