The coffee of time - #STB - Week 37

Fuera de Servicio (3).jpg
CANVA
jairojehuel

It was a cold and rainy night in the city of Bogotá. The wind was blowing hard, making the dry leaves rustle in the empty streets. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of thunder and lightning that illuminated the dark sky.

I was disappointed with myself, my friends had told me that I had the creativity to write a novel and publish it, but no matter how hard I tried to write, I couldn't find the inspiration.

Walking home after having enjoyed a play called "The Cat Who Ate His Tail", I found that on a street corner, there was a small café called "El Tiempo".

It caught my attention so much that I decided to go in for a hot cup of coffee.

I took off my black coat, ideal for the cold street, my tricolour scarf and the beige hat that my beautiful girlfriend Victoria gave me.

It was a cosy and quiet place, with an old and elegant décor. It had a crackling fireplace in the background, and several tables and armchairs where people could enjoy a cup of coffee and a book.

I sat down and from my table, I could make out a beautiful wooden sign that read:

"Try our new special roast: The Coffee of Time. A unique and unforgettable experience. Tonight only"

I decided to try it, called the waiter and asked for a large cup of "The Coffee of Time".

I thought something strange was going on when the waiter asked me if I was sure and I noticed a strange expression on his face.

While I was waiting for my coffee, I noticed that the other customers were watching me with curiosity. I had the impression that I seemed out of place as if I didn't belong in the city. But no one dared to approach me and I didn't think anything of it.

Finally, the coffee arrived and when the waiter placed it on the table I asked him what was so special about coffee. The young man replied that the coffee was not like other coffees, that it had a very particular effect; it allowed time travel.

The concept didn't enter my head, but the waiter's convincing way of expressing himself led me to ask no more questions and I immediately brought the cup as close to my nose as I could to sniff the aroma.

As I was about to drink it, the waiter interrupted me and said there was something he had to tell me. You can only travel in time as long as there is coffee in the cup. I ignored him and drank my coffee.

Suddenly, I found myself in a strange room, full of old clocks and dusty books. It was a library in the 18th century.

It was my dream come true to document authors of the time in person. An experience that was impossible to live in the 21st century and that served to inspire me in my novel.

I was excited, but I remembered that I had been told that everything lasted as long as I had coffee in my cup. So I tried to record in my memory everything I could learn in the library before moving on to another time.

I took another sip of coffee and found myself in a different room. This time, I was in a dark, dank cave, surrounded by strange and aggressive beings. It was the era of the caveman. I preferred to take another sip of coffee, that scene scared me so much.

Now, I found myself in a dark and dirty alley. In front of me stood a strange man with a knife in his hand, staring at me. I had entered a dangerous time in my future and my life was in imminent danger.

I fought fiercely against the attacker until I defeated him. What I had learned about Greco-Roman wrestling in my younger days came in handy.

I took another sip of coffee and appeared in the present, panting and sweating profusely. The other patrons of the café looked at me in astonishment as my mind blurred and I slumped in my chair.

He had seen things no one else had seen, had traveled through time, and had survived a dangerous situation.

As best I could I drank the last drop of coffee left in the cup wishing with all my heart to be in my mother's arms, that was a happy memory of my life and I wanted to repeat it.

But there was a catch, a catch I didn't know. With the last sip of coffee, I had to wish to be in the present, otherwise, I would remain in the last desired time.

I went to the past and saw my mother's beautiful eyes; I was happy.

The coffee was over, and I didn't go back to the café.

In the present time, the next morning, they opened the establishment and found a dead man in a chair, with a smile on his face and an empty cup in his hand.

Ger-Man.gif

I wrote this story and tears came to my eyes. The memory of my mother invaded my mind and I felt I saw my death in the future. The good thing is that I wrote while drinking coffee, the nectar of the gods.

All rights reserved. © Copyright 2023 Germán Andrade G.

Original content is written exclusively for #STB Creative Writing Prompt Week 37

I use CANVA to edit the images you see in my publications.

I am responsible for sharing with you that, as a Spanish speaker, I have had to resort to the Deepl translator to share my original content with you.

Thank you for your visit and for your comment.

H2
H3
H4
3 columns
2 columns
1 column
4 Comments
Ecency