Greetings dear friends coffee lovers, this is my participation in the #SPILLTHEBEANS CONTEST for which I want to take the opportunity to invite friends @crisch23
A ray of sunlight penetrates through the window, wedging itself into my eye like a malevolent dagger that forces me to wake up. What a terrible night I must have endured, sleeping in that sleeping bag on the floor of my new apartment, but at least I know that being surrounded by the pile of boxes implies a new beginning, progress in my life, and the reflection of work success in this new year that has just begun.
I still don't even know where my things are, in this pile of unlabeled boxes that my mom put together in the other city, so while I take a shower, I go to order a delivery and have them bring me a good coffee and a croissant for breakfast.
Enjoying the enriching aroma that this delicate coffee brings to my existence this morning, giving the necessary impetus to begin my laborious task of unpacking and organizing, I ask myself internally where will I start?
Someone once told me that it was better to start with the smallest things, especially the kitchen stuff, well, I will open this box that seems to sound like glass and indeed it is, they are plates and glasses, I take out the utensils, but there is something strange, although all my crockery is of those generic white ones made in China, I do not remember having so many plates and fewer glasses of different sizes.
At first, I thought my mother, added some extra things to the move without telling me. Meanwhile, I take another sip of my cup of coffee and follow with another lighter box, at this point things get disturbing, inside I find a black leather suit with metal clasps and some lady-like things, like those domination fetish ones and stuff like that you see in the movies.
Now I am more than sure that this is not mine, much less my mother sent it to me, out of curiosity I decided to open another box, which was filled with any number and variety of multicolored female sex toys, that surprised me to the extreme and corrupted my thoughts imagining its use.
Undoubtedly, the company got my move wrong and sent me a woman's movement, unfortunately, I can do absolutely nothing until Monday, since they don't work on weekends. As I continue my breakfast, I entered the typical dilemma of morbid curiosity, I could swear I had on one shoulder a little devil asking me to open the remaining boxes and on the other an angel begging me not to do it and to respect that person's privacy. However, a great argument gained force in my brain, maybe among the boxes I could find something that would allow me to contact the owner directly and also ask her if she has my boxes.
So with nothing else to do on this day, I continued my detailed work of opening each package, obviously, those unexpected surprises stopped manifesting themselves, since only those two boxes contained private things, the others were in fact quite normal, I could say that their content was to be expected, at least until I came across one where the family photos were.
In it I could finally know the identity of the mysterious owner, it was a middle-aged woman with voluminous hair, a very beautiful face and a defined body, which was a reliable sign of hours of training and physical exercise and a healthy diet. It was in that same wrapping, that I found an old leather-covered notebook, its pages looked yellowish and written in cursive handwriting, apparently with ink, as it was done in colonial times.
When I opened it, I tried to read a little about its contents, which at first was complicated to understand given its ornate writing, but then my eyes adapted to understand that it was nothing more and nothing less than a recipe book, but not just any kind of cooking stuff, it was something that I would appreciate over time just having the joy of finding it, it was a detailed manual to create all kinds of meals, drinks, and desserts that have coffee as the main ingredient.
After reviewing a little more among the things from the move, I discovered an address book and managed to contact Teresa, that was the name of the owner of those boxes, in my conversation I told her about what happened and also mentioned to her how fascinating it was for me to come across that recipe book since I am a big fan of coffee and I love to cook in my free time as a method of relaxation to combat stress.
Teresa then told me about the origins of that notebook, which began around the time of 1800 in her homeland, El Salvador, and became a family heirloom that has passed from generation to generation, that day thanks to that mistake were born an incredible friendship, without realizing that afternoon we spent very pleasant hours talking about their ancestors who lived in the coffee plantations of Central America, I remember well that we agreed to meet the next day to implement one of the recipes, a cold cake called Tiramisu that an Italian sailor taught his grandmother. Seven years have passed since that Sunday adventure, the same amount of time I have been enjoying the great friendship of this singular woman.
Thank you for reading
This is an Original Story written by @susurrodelmisterio for Hive.
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