Creative Writing -
Cold Coffee
I wake up at ten of six, every day and stumble to the bathroom to brush my teeth. My fingers drag across the flat paint of our apartment and feel me to the kitchen. With the smell of pre-set coffee in the air, I grope for my favorite Tinkerbell mug and pour the dark roast. I don't have time any more to notice the two chips in the glaze that I once spent my morning staring at. With my black coffee on the counter, I drag my feet to the pink bedroom where the two beautiful little girls sleep.
Against the door frame I lean the weight of my tired body to watch them for a moment taking in the quiet and serenity that fills their room. They stir and wake on their own, certainly from the feeling of me watching them and I switch on the lamp. Centered between the two beds it stands on their white and gold furniture and puts off a dim light through tiffany like glass shaped into wings at the back of a metal fairy. The youngest obediently gets out of bed and makes her way to the bathroom to take a shower. The oldest, always a bit more difficult in the morning stays in bed and complains that the sun is not yet up. I smile and tell her it is morning after all and she stumbles her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. They switch places fairly quickly and the other showers while the younger brushes her teeth.
Once they are dressed, I begin to make them breakfast. Eggs and bacon or a banana and cereal, sometimes pancakes. They carry on their morning quietly at the table eating and talking about the day to come. By now I have time to put creamer in my coffee and stir it; but not before i make my way back to our bedroom to wake up their father. He starts to get up and i begin cooking his breakfast. By the time he comes to the table the girls have finished and have settled on the couch to watch their morning cartoons or sesame street. He sits at the table every day for 20 minutes before work fairly quietly; but contently. I bring him his breakfast and clear the table where the girls sat. He eats some of his breakfast but rarely all of it and thanks me every day for taking care of him. As I take the plates from the table to the kitchen I spot y coffee nearly finished on the counter and add my artificial sweetener. Just as i get the luke warm mug to my lips he's in the kitchen to tell me goodbye for the day and kisses me.
I walk him to the door and help the girls with their back packs and kiss them each good bye smiling at their independence as they struggle to zip their own jackets in the middle of August. The three leave for school and work together. He will drop them off at their school and head to work. I will clean up and cook as i do every day in addition to looking for a new job now that we have moved. With added classes online to finish school it will all need to be done with more haste so I can have my work done before they return home for the night.
I return to the kitchen my coffee awaits me chilled on the counter I pick it up to my lips and sip it to check for temperature. Its good enough for ice coffee now. I pour some ice into my clear with blue polka dots plastic cup and pour my residual cold coffee over top. My day will start from here typical of every school going, home makers day; but mine will start with a cup of cold coffee.
I wake up at ten of six, every day and stumble to the bathroom to brush my teeth. My fingers drag across the flat paint of our apartment and feel me to the kitchen. With the smell of pre-set coffee in the air, I grope for my favorite Tinkerbell mug and pour the dark roast. I don't have time any more to notice the two chips in the glaze that I once spent my morning staring at. With my black coffee on the counter, I drag my feet to the pink bedroom where the two beautiful little girls sleep.
Against the door frame I lean the weight of my tired body to watch them for a moment taking in the quiet and serenity that fills their room. They stir and wake on their own, certainly from the feeling of me watching them and I switch on the lamp. Centered between the two beds it stands on their white and gold furniture and puts off a dim light through tiffany like glass shaped into wings at the back of a metal fairy. The youngest obediently gets out of bed and makes her way to the bathroom to take a shower. The oldest, always a bit more difficult in the morning stays in bed and complains that the sun is not yet up. I smile and tell her it is morning after all and she stumbles her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. They switch places fairly quickly and the other showers while the younger brushes her teeth.
Once they are dressed, I begin to make them breakfast. Eggs and bacon or a banana and cereal, sometimes pancakes. They carry on their morning quietly at the table eating and talking about the day to come. By now I have time to put creamer in my coffee and stir it; but not before i make my way back to our bedroom to wake up their father. He starts to get up and i begin cooking his breakfast. By the time he comes to the table the girls have finished and have settled on the couch to watch their morning cartoons or sesame street. He sits at the table every day for 20 minutes before work fairly quietly; but contently. I bring him his breakfast and clear the table where the girls sat. He eats some of his breakfast but rarely all of it and thanks me every day for taking care of him. As I take the plates from the table to the kitchen I spot y coffee nearly finished on the counter and add my artificial sweetener. Just as i get the luke warm mug to my lips he's in the kitchen to tell me goodbye for the day and kisses me.
I walk him to the door and help the girls with their back packs and kiss them each good bye smiling at their independence as they struggle to zip their own jackets in the middle of August. The three leave for school and work together. He will drop them off at their school and head to work. I will clean up and cook as i do every day in addition to looking for a new job now that we have moved. With added classes online to finish school it will all need to be done with more haste so I can have my work done before they return home for the night.
I return to the kitchen my coffee awaits me chilled on the counter I pick it up to my lips and sip it to check for temperature. Its good enough for ice coffee now. I pour some ice into my clear with blue polka dots plastic cup and pour my residual cold coffee over top. My day will start from here typical of every school going, home makers day; but mine will start with a cup of cold coffee.