Author: Fallon Ash
Title: Coffee
Rating: PG for heavy angst
Coffee
*********
The coffee was probably cold by now. She tasted it. Very cold indeed. She stared unseeingly at the black, oily liquid in the cup and willed it to warm up. Of course it didn't work. She slowly rose from the kitchen table and got over to the coffee machine. Without thinking she poured out the old coffee and put on some new, noticing the jar was almost empty.
God, have I actually been drinking that much coffee only in the last few days?!
She remembered buying coffee recently, but the exact day had slipped from her mind. She stood by the coffee machine until she could pour herself a cup, and went back to the table with the fresh coffee, wrapping her hands around the hot cup, trying to get rid of the cold, stiff feeling in them. She couldn't remember her hand being warm in a long, long time. She couldn't even recall the feeling.
She sat down in the same chair she had left just a couple of minutes ago. A few minutes and it was already as cold as the rest of the room, the rest of the house, everything. The only warm thing seemed to be the coffee. She slowly sipped it, feeling it burn her tongue and her throat. She couldn't care less. At least she could fool herself for a little while, pretending that she was actually getting warmer. She swallowed some more of the content of the cup, feeling it actually starting to warm her up a little. She hadn't felt this good in many weeks. Maybe the coffee had finally begun to work. It must have been at least the 7th cup since she had awoken a couple of hours earlier. Looking out through the one window she couldn't tell if it was day or night. It didn't bother her anymore. She slept when she was tired and got up when she woke up. It was dark 24 hours a day anyway, so it really didn't matter.
Looking down at the half-empty cup of coffee in her hands, she suddenly started to cry. The tears fell into the now cooling coffee, she hadn't intended to drink anymore of it, anyway.
1)
She wasn't sure why she was crying, but it felt very good. She felt like she was letting go of something, something that had been haunting her, but she couldn't for her life remember what it was. She felt it slipping away from her mind just as she tried to grasp the memory, as it had every single time in the last few days. But at last she felt it starting to ease a little. She didn't feel as overwhelmed by the feeling of sadness anymore. As if the sadness was something concrete she imagined it rising from her body, leaving her empty, but it was a void that she would at least be able to fill. Some time in the future at least.
2)
Suddenly she rose from her chair and threw the cup with all her strength straight across the kitchen. It hit the wall beside the window and shattered into a million pieces, which spread over the kitchen floor along with the coffee. She didn't care⦠nothing mattered anymore. She was going to do something, she had no idea what, but she was definitely going to do something. She turned and ran out of the kitchen, and out of the house, slamming the door. There must be something she could do.
3)
But then she came to think of something. She slowly pulled the little vial from her pocket and squinted at the colourless liquid inside. With a simple movement she uncapped the vial and poured its content into the black liquid in front of her. She took one deep breath before bringing the cup to her mouth. With one long, fluid movement she swallowed everything in the cup. Maybe she could find a way to deal with this after all.
Title: Coffee
Rating: PG for heavy angst
Coffee
*********
The coffee was probably cold by now. She tasted it. Very cold indeed. She stared unseeingly at the black, oily liquid in the cup and willed it to warm up. Of course it didn't work. She slowly rose from the kitchen table and got over to the coffee machine. Without thinking she poured out the old coffee and put on some new, noticing the jar was almost empty.
God, have I actually been drinking that much coffee only in the last few days?!
She remembered buying coffee recently, but the exact day had slipped from her mind. She stood by the coffee machine until she could pour herself a cup, and went back to the table with the fresh coffee, wrapping her hands around the hot cup, trying to get rid of the cold, stiff feeling in them. She couldn't remember her hand being warm in a long, long time. She couldn't even recall the feeling.
She sat down in the same chair she had left just a couple of minutes ago. A few minutes and it was already as cold as the rest of the room, the rest of the house, everything. The only warm thing seemed to be the coffee. She slowly sipped it, feeling it burn her tongue and her throat. She couldn't care less. At least she could fool herself for a little while, pretending that she was actually getting warmer. She swallowed some more of the content of the cup, feeling it actually starting to warm her up a little. She hadn't felt this good in many weeks. Maybe the coffee had finally begun to work. It must have been at least the 7th cup since she had awoken a couple of hours earlier. Looking out through the one window she couldn't tell if it was day or night. It didn't bother her anymore. She slept when she was tired and got up when she woke up. It was dark 24 hours a day anyway, so it really didn't matter.
Looking down at the half-empty cup of coffee in her hands, she suddenly started to cry. The tears fell into the now cooling coffee, she hadn't intended to drink anymore of it, anyway.
1)
She wasn't sure why she was crying, but it felt very good. She felt like she was letting go of something, something that had been haunting her, but she couldn't for her life remember what it was. She felt it slipping away from her mind just as she tried to grasp the memory, as it had every single time in the last few days. But at last she felt it starting to ease a little. She didn't feel as overwhelmed by the feeling of sadness anymore. As if the sadness was something concrete she imagined it rising from her body, leaving her empty, but it was a void that she would at least be able to fill. Some time in the future at least.
2)
Suddenly she rose from her chair and threw the cup with all her strength straight across the kitchen. It hit the wall beside the window and shattered into a million pieces, which spread over the kitchen floor along with the coffee. She didn't care⦠nothing mattered anymore. She was going to do something, she had no idea what, but she was definitely going to do something. She turned and ran out of the kitchen, and out of the house, slamming the door. There must be something she could do.
3)
But then she came to think of something. She slowly pulled the little vial from her pocket and squinted at the colourless liquid inside. With a simple movement she uncapped the vial and poured its content into the black liquid in front of her. She took one deep breath before bringing the cup to her mouth. With one long, fluid movement she swallowed everything in the cup. Maybe she could find a way to deal with this after all.
