Pages by Espresso

I tapped my pencil against the journal page as the sweet aroma of coffee swirled around me and mixed with the smell of morning rain. “What to write,” I whispered to the light grey sky, but of course it gave no reply. A boy with his flying plaid scarf cycled past me and a woman rushed by to catch the train; it passed all too quickly, as it spanned only the time it took to raise the cup of coffee to my lips. And as I sipped the drink and caught the cool Autumn breeze I realized that the world spun too quickly or perhaps we rushed too quickly in this world that already spun at the perfect speed. “I should write about this,” I thought until I realized I had been writing all along. As I continued writing, again I caught the aroma of coffee which swirled around me and mixed with the smell of morning rain.

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