Designed on canva
I've always prided myself on being a cheerful morning person. I wake up early, get ready with a spring in my step, and head to my favorite coffee shop on the corner for a vanilla latte to kickstart my day. Call me basic if you want, but that sweet nectar of caffeine truly makes me happy.
At least, it used to. That was before the curse.
It all started a few weeks ago when I met Zelda, who I briefly dated until things went sour between us. She had always struck me as odd in a whimsical, witchy way. I didn't mind at first – her eccentric style was part of the attraction for me initially. But when things got ugly during our breakup, she screamed at me that I’d regret this forever and would “rue the day” I hurt her.
Yeah yeah, I brushed off her overly-dramatic proclamations. Until the next morning, that is, waiting patiently for my daily latte. I took that first sublime sip, relishing the sweet vanilla notes dancing across my tongue...when suddenly scalding coffee splashed all down the front of my brand new silk blouse! I gasped and staggered back, bumping right into the condiments counter. Packets of sugar, stir sticks, and napkins avalanched onto my head as I stood there in shock, dripping and making a huge sticky mess.
“Are you okay miss?” The barista rushed over with a towel and helped me clean up. I was mortified but insisted I was fine. That is, until I was halfway to work and realized part of my blouse was still wet and the caramel-colored stain had set. I had to walk around self-consciously all day at the office with a glaring coffee splotch on my top.
Maybe just bad luck? But the next day I stopped for my usual coffee ritual, and it happened again! This time as I went to add my customary two creamers, the lids popped off simultaneously and doused my class project notes in creamy liquid. The ink bled together into an inky mess, and I had to redo my work last-minute to turn it in on time.
By the third day of minor coffee mishaps, my suspicion was confirmed: Zelda’s breakup hex was manifesting every time I indulged in my favorite drink! I went home early, morale totally dampened along with my stained blouse. Was I doomed to never enjoy coffee without chaos again thanks to that witch’s curse?
I decided to try out-smarting the curse. The next morning, I nervously ordered a small black coffee, hoping that subbing my go-to vanilla latte might thwart the spell. But the bizarre hijinks continued. Within minutes, I had spilled scalding liquid on my new shoes, gotten bizarre stains on my purse (how?!), and slipped spectacularly in a puddle by the creamer, just nearly avoiding face-planting. Storming out utterly embarrassed, I cursed Zelda under my breath.
Clearly I couldn’t defeat her magic by merely switching up orders. If I wanted caffeine, chaos ensued no matter what. I even tried tea instead, but had managed to upend the whole hot kettle across the table somehow. This curse was inescapable!
Or...was it? An idea struck me. Racing to the nearest grocery store, I purchased a small espresso machine and milk frother for my apartment. From now on, I’d make my beloved lattes from home! The next few days I held my breath subconsciously while preparing my at-home drinks, but miraculously no backfires occurred. Making coffee myself seemed to confuse the curse, somehow circumventing the consequences. I couldn’t believe it had worked! Who cared if I had to give up cozy café mornings? At least I could have my caffeine fix again peacefully.
Then came Monday morning, rushing late to work already when disaster struck. My ancient espresso machine suddenly exploded all over my kitchen! Scalding water cascaded down and steam billowed up as flames licked the somehow melting plastic exterior. I stood screaming, pinned against the fridge by the violent eruption threatening to torch down my whole apartment.
As a firefighter chopped down my smoke-charred door twenty minutes later, I finally admitted Zelda may have out-magicked me this time. I watched the smoldering remains of my kitchen in defeat. Would her bitter curse follow me around forever? Was coffee out of my life for good?
Maybe so, if I couldn’t pull off making it safely myself at home or buying it in shops. As the firefighter kindly handed me a cup of water, I sighed and tipped it back. At least Water still likes me. Looks like my mornings of cheer and vanilla-sweet caffeine are over...thanks a lot, Zelda. I always hated tea anyway.
This is a fiction story for the spillthebeans coffee contest
