he clasps his cup in ungainly hands, and watches her stir. sugar dissolves; creamy clouds disperse, like fragile affection, like fantasy.
suddenly, it seems, he sees only obligation, and his heart hardens, and his shoulders stiffen, and his pale blue eyes concede that their imperfect affinity has faded, simply, into the august air.
Oh, that looks so good. I miss those little "butter" containers of milk.
ReplyDeletelynn,
ReplyDeletewas again strongly impressed by your words and image
i can see the whole scene right in front of me
it's like your short tale is making this capture so much larger...
and... it's even better to let my fantasy imagine the whole thing
if i would be a moviemaker i would like to have you in my team!
What complex thoughts a cup of coffee can give birth to.
ReplyDeleteNever happens to me.
I just drink the vile stuff that is produced by the machine on my floor at work. Perhaps I should look for some great coffee somewhere. Take time to drink coffee.
I'll think about it.
*grin*
ReplyDeleteI like your tone !
ReplyDeleteThis is relly lovery!!!