K.L. Medley18+

Coffee 17 hours ago View post In the heat of the evening sun making its way through the old single-pane windows, I sat waiting. For what I’m not sure. A care, perhaps. And the kettle. Its whistle had gone soft, and I almost missed it. Its once loud and insistent voice had grown weak, and the steam could only whisper of what it used to scream. I just barely caught it before the water had boiled off, and now, at least, there would be coffee. A sweet cinnamon-laced coffee. My attempt at spicing up a late afternoon that was otherwise tepidly insipid. I can’t say that it worked. Don’t get me wrong, the coffee was pleasant. It did a small something. But as it turns out, one cannot make up the for