A coffee in the same space | Week 124

Hello coffee lovers!

Some stories tell us that coffee, when consumed with the right intention, can lead us to contemplate hidden mysteries, giving us the ability to recognize remarkable revelations. For centuries, it has been linked to esotericism and other expressions of reinterpreting or embracing life.

For my part, I prefer not to delve into my own opinions on the matter. But it does strike me that causality manifests through coffee, causing a lump in my chest that, at one point, I thought was a harbinger of something beautiful, but now it doesn't let me breathe. From the specific cup of coffee I drink, to the timing of everyday events, to numerology—well, it's so many small details...

Regarding revelations, I don't know if I've had any specific ones, but when I've thought about them, I've always wanted to be wrong about them because sometimes things don't turn out the way I want them to. Today is proof of that. It's the twenty-fourth day my world crumbled to the point of breaking my breath. Twenty-four, a number that encapsulates two and four to remind me of causality once again...

So, I find myself in this café pouring my heart out onto a piece of paper while drinking coffee, and another, and another...

Suddenly I look up and imagine myself in a magical world where Hedwig, the great white owl, appears, and I can send these letters to their destination so she knows that...

Sometimes I think of you
and other times
I do it too.

But I realize I'm alone in front of a cup of coffee, like someone lost in their paths...

The bartender measures the milliliters of each alcoholic concoction, but I don't want to drink alcohol. I ask for another cup of coffee while I go wash my face and try to smile...

When I return, the Mandrake looks at me and makes me remember other times...

Times when I was able to share the magic of @maylink @daddyvaldes and his beautiful children!

Times when it even seemed like @maylink was in Azkaban hahaha...

And then the Sorting Hat, with its singular face, looked at me to remind me that I was alone, drinking black coffee, and that no one was with me...

So, I rediscover myself submerged in a sheet of paper, silently whispering:

...
a silence of broken hands
and a blues
that tattoos your voice
there
in the same space...

I sigh between ellipses and ink crossings out. I put on my glasses, drink the last of my coffee, and try to smile as I invite everyone to participate in this magical prompt proposed by @cinnccf.

To everyone, a hug of light and coffee!