Coffee
I sat at the café with my head in my hands. Everything was assaulting my senses – the scent of cream and caramel, the chatter of cashiers and customers, the sipping of drinks echoing off brightly-lit walls… it was torture. I peeked at the time stamped on the corner of my laptop screen. 7:30. It was too early for this.
My drink was growing cold. The sweetened foam was melting into the milky brown liquid. That’s fine. I prefer it that way. Bringing the cup to my lips, I took a long sip. I could taste the shot of caffeine mixed with copious amounts of sugar and milk. I didn’t care much for the flavor. It could taste like mud, and I wouldn’t mind. All I wanted was the burst of artificial energy loaded in the paper cup. The rest only served to make each sip a little more bearable.
Before I knew it, the cup was empty. The rest of the café didn’t seem nearly as overwhelming anymore. The rising sun’s harsh light didn’t give me a migraine. I sighed with relief. Thank God for caffeine. I got up from my chair, threw the cup into a nearby trash can, and approached the barista behind the counter.
” I need another drink.”