She turned the spoon, it was brown and white, she turned it again and it became white and brown, she starred absentmindedly at her coffee, it was now all brown. Her heart beat was slower now, her breaths were regular again. She dropped the spoon back into her coffee and willed herself to cry. She waited for the taste of salt on her lips but there was nothing. She brought out a mirror from her bag and looked at her eyes, as if looking at them would make the tears fall. Her eyes were clear, they starred back at her with firm resolution. Suddenly, she could feel the constriction in her heart again, she left her coffee untouched and lay down on her bed.
Her heart felt tighter....she felt like she was suffocating, she curled herself on the bed and waited...perhaps there were no tears left? she slowly got up and looked at herself in the mirror. The begining of a laugh was starting to form at the corners of her lips...slowly, she let it out, she laughed and laughed until she could laugh no more. She shook her head and thought of that call, that had changed it all, he had finally answered she had thought...finally...it took her a second to realize that it was not his voice on the other end of the line...it was "her" voice... whoever she was.
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4 comments:
You know, a pinch of salt - from tears or any other source - enhances the flavour of coffee.
There must be another story in this story...I'm missing something
Hmmmm...makes you wonder who the other woman is...
@Patrice, I like my coffee black but I'll try it with salt next time, hehehehe
@Kiibaati, there might be...
@afrobabe, yeah.....
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