Tea and Coffee

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April 22nd, 2018, by Patrick Starks

TEA AND COFFEE

Dear friend,

I feel you would agree that there’s nothing like a hot cup of coffee to get you up in the morning. A teaspoon or two of half and half along with a dash of sugar, all to compliment the coffee you now brew, making you feel sharp as a cougar. And just when it hits the back of your throat, it flows warmth up and down your spine like a winter coat. It is just the feeling you need to get moving again, the feeling you needed, the feeling you wanted.

It wake’s you up, it starts your day but later leaves you in dismay. You feel tired again, and ponder on another cup, but to the cabinet on your right you see a green box. Only until now have you had the chance to see it again or remember that you even had such.

It is tea, that of which you have been avoiding for at least a year now. You gaze back at the coffee that once made you happy but hesitate to fall for its tricks, for that it has now made you feel crappy, possibly sick.

Your head spins with the decision of which to choose, as both an angel and a demon hovers your shoulders like a wound. One making you feel warmth and the other colder. You then smolder on the thoughts on which one is best.

Water begins to boil with a small bag within it. It is clear as day you have made your decision. And instantly it is that decision that puts you in the mode of apprehension.

One sip and you have now burned your tongue. The demon on your shoulder laughs.

“You should have drank the coffee,” said she sarcastically, with a sarcastic grin.

The angel now meditates with you in sympathy as she knows that you are in agony. She then pulls from the feathers of her wing a random object and, throws it up and over your head. And now it is the demon who aches. The sounds of a chipmunk chuckles in your right ear, as from your left only flows anger and tears.

And through it all the coffee has become loop warm, basically cold if any. You think to re-warm, but from the way it is, you ponder to just throw two ice cubes in it and call it an iced coffee instead—call it a day. However, the day is too cold for that, this I know you would say.

You decide to drink it as is, and it satisfies the burns in your throat. Unfortunately, it as well leaves a burning taste in your mouth. It is easy to say that loop warm coffee and mint green tea do not go well together. The taste you try to tether somehow brings to you the exotic taste of leather.

Out of frustration, the coffee then goes down the garbage disposal and the demon on your shoulder fades. But just before it says it’s goodbye, clogs your garbage disposal as you knew not of the coffee grounds that rested at the bottom.

You take a few sips of the tea. And the thought of doing the same comes to mind.

“You shouldn’t,” said the angel with radiant wings. “Here, let me help.”

The angel rushes over to grab some honey, but mistaken’s pancake syrup for it. One last sip and you spit the tea out onto the floor. The angel tries to clean it up, but you refuse, no more.

You pour the tea down the drain. Now the angel becomes a mist, not ever knowing her beautiful name or the risk. Tisk, tisk.

“Why!” yelled the angel as it faded away. “Why! You shouldn’t have…”

Out of all that has happened, you feel exhausted. Your mouth is dry from the burns of taste and now seek a peaceful place.

The only thing left now is water in which you should of chose, it was the greatest fuel for your body, that you should’ve known.

And now as the water flows down your chest, you have no reason to attest, in your heart you know it’s whats best.  You will make your vow to not drink tea or coffee anymore, but in your heart the two you still adore.

It is wise for you to evaluate your addictions. It is wise for you to notice, as for my reason I wrote this, was in fact for you to note this.

Sincerely,

Note’

 

Barista Girl

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September 24th, 2017 by Patrick Starks 

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Double or triple, I’d ponder, maybe even a quad, but I feared that make me a goner. There was at least seven behind me waiting to laugh at my rejection, but I couldn’t wait, I had to espresso my affection. Barista girls cheeks would then turn red as her chocolatey eyes sparkled, I could see my words were smooth enough to leave her somewhat startled. But coffee, my coffee as she stirs you up, can you feel through her delicate hands that I honestly had any luck. The numbers written on your forehead would tell me otherwise, as you now have become my greatest prize. The following day she and I would leave the park with coffee on the ground, love was in the air, for that even our coffee cups had found.