I love my coffee. I like my coffee black and extremely warm. Not necessarily scalding hot, but extremely, jerk-you-back-to-reality kind of warm. As I stir, I savor the aroma wafting from my ancient porcelain coffee mug to my eager nostrils. On a particularly chilly day at the office (like today), hot coffee offers comfort to my freezing hands. I embrace my icy fingers around my coffee mug and immediately I am enveloped with warmth and joy that radiates from my fingers to my toes. I take my first sip, and I alternately endure and enjoy the searing pain on my lips and my tongue. A small sacrifice in exchange for the privilege to savor the bitter taste of coffee that is just so good.
This is my tribute to pure, bitter, good old fashioned coffee. May you continue to warm both my heart and my tummy.
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