The coffee museum


The air of the enclosure ushered in a feeling of euphoria. It was like being lifted and placed in 1960. Although the building was old and abandoned for a very long time before reopening, it still had an exquisite feel. The scent of roasted beans enveloped the air. It felt as though the aroma was going to lift me off my feet. Like an enchantment, It was like nothing I had ever felt before. My second visit there didn't change a thing. It was still picturesque.

“The Winky coffee museum is over fifty years old. This museum is the original Winky coffee factory that belonged to Sir Winky”. The curator, an old grumpy man with strands of hair that stood, and a crumpled cheap suit, looked like he was coming out of a mild electrocution chamber.

“And here, the original Winky coffee bean. Fine and old like wine. Ah ah! No touching”. He pointed at sacs of coffee beans that sat pretty near a crushing machine. There were only two sacs before. “The magic is in the bean”. He smiled exposing a missing incisor in his dentition.

This was the great Winky coffee factory of the old generation. Winky made the best coffee that traveled to the nooks and crannies of the world. Sailors sang its glories, travelers would carry Its stories overseas and coffee lovers all over the world would not have enough of it.

Everything in the factory remained pristine as though it was just abandoned. Machines plugged in, sacs of beans, empty packs, and even packages to be delivered. Just like that, Mr. Winky disappeared leaving his magnificent factory behind. No one ever saw him again. Rumor had it that Mr. Winky made a pact with the devil and it is the reason he was so successful. When Mr. Winky couldn't fulfill his end of the bargain, his soul was taken away. Some say that his soul is trapped in the museum. Lurking!

Since the authorities turned the biggest coffee factory ever into a museum, It's had visitors from across the world. Coffee enthusiasts from far and wide coming to breathe in the air of the famous Winky factory.

“These machines are considered antiques found nowhere else in the world” The curator went on pointing at a giant coffee roaster to our left. Beside it was a statuette I had not seen the last time. In the middle of the museum was a life-size statue of Mr. Winky. Beside him was another statuette I hadn't noticed. It was like more statuettes were being added to the museum.

I wasn't just there to be enthralled by the historic museum again. I worked for the local newspaper company and recently, there had been mysterious deaths. All the cases had somehow been linked to the Winky Museum. The victims had all visited the museum the day before and had been killed in their homes while drinking coffee. The papers called the murders, the “coffee bean killer”.

I looked around me and no one was watching. Slowly, I filled my hands with some coffee beans from the sac and hide them in my bag. I thought I'd add a little adventure to my quest. What a thrill it would be to brew myself some Winky coffee. After a futile attempt at finding something at the museum, I called it a day.

Later that night after retiring to bed, I recalled my mischief. Instantly, I grabbed my handbag, retrieved the coffee beans, and headed straight for my coffee maker. The sweet smell of coffee engulfed my home. It was like I had brought the entire museum home with me. Suddenly, a cool breeze began to find its way through my window. I settled on my living room couch to savor my drink and completely immerse myself in its glory.

The air turned colder. I tried to stand up and shut my window but within the blink of an eye, more wind channeled through my window, and like a swirl, I found myself sitting with this enormous whirlwind in front of me. Soon it began to materialize. In that whirling, I made out a face. The great Mr. Winky. “The magic is in the bean”. He echoed followed by a burst of sinister resounding laughter.

Immediately, I felt like I was detaching from myself. It was like my soul left my body. With another resounding laughter, I found myself back at the museum standing in front of a hauling machine. It looked gigantic this time and I felt so small in front of it. I couldn't move my body. I felt stiff and frozen. My eyeballs darted everywhere until they landed on the curator. He was standing in front of Mr. Winky’s statue. “Well done Winky! Now one more worker and you fulfill your end of the bargain”. He turned to look at me. “ I told you! No touching”. He smiled flashing his missing tooth.

I glanced down at my body. Behold! I had turned into another statuette in the museum.

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