Fiction · nyclovers' blog

Waiting coffee

Waiting coffee


Waiting is hard.

He sat there, waiting.

He could see the lights flickering playfully through the leaves of the trees outside. Together. He could hear the birds singing even though the glassed door was closed. Together.

He waited.

He looked down and realised his coffee cup was empty. Wanting to make another one, but it was late already, he decided to go to work.

Day by day, when the morning came, he waited. He had been waiting for so long that he almost forgot what he was waiting for. The silhouette turned blurs.

He asked himself, should he wait any longer, day by day? Couldn’t decide what to do, he guessed he would wait until a decision that wouldn’t regret him was made.

He still couldn’t decide.

‘Promise one… Promise two… Promise three…’

‘Silly, you sound like a kid!’

‘Who cares?’

The conversation flipped through his mind sometimes, during those mornings.

The lights touched his skin. Well, it’s time. He stood up, washed the cup and put it back to where it belonged. Side by side with the other cup. Exactly the same one.

‘You’re being tempted by this shirt, aren’t you?’

‘Stupid, no way. It is the smell. I guess the sun’s ‘taste’ like this. And he’s really warm too!’

‘You’re just being childish!’

That was nice. Having someone’s arms wrapped around your body from the back was really nice. The memories were fading. The feelings also became more and more illusional.

This is nice. Having someone’s arms wrap around your body from the back is really nice. The memories ware fading. The feelings also become more and more illusional. But the warmth is real.

‘You’re right. I am being tempted.’

‘Sorry, I drink your coffee.’

Nguyệt Hạ

22/09/2011

Minh Yên Lâu

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