The old coffee shop lady walked over to the old man’s table and said;
Excuse me sir but I’ve noticed you’ve been coming over to my shop at exactly 9am and sitting at this same table for 15years now. You must be really into our coffee and tea I must say you are our most loyal customer.
And he said; I don’t come here for the prize of the most loyal you see, I lost my wife 15years ago and this used to be our favourite spot in the shop. You see this is the only way I can be close to her, have a feel and taste of her. Have a seat and I’ll tell you all about her.
Her eyes were as fine as golden pebbles
Her bright smile were as though it was carved out of a crescent moon
Her sweet laughter still sits comfortably on the brink of my chest orchestrating every heart beat of mine.
And in all of these things I remember, what haunts me most is her voice , the unforgettable smoothen yet striking voice that came with a mixture of softness and pain on her dying bed when she asked “WHAT’S MY FAVOURITE COLOUR”
how could I have missed that. 45years of marriage and yet I missed such important detail.
So dear coffee shop owner, I mean no disrespect, but the black coffee with extra cream you sell is the only thing she loved that I paid attention to……And I know she mentioned it on one of those days we sat on this table, and till I figure it out, I’ll be here for the black coffee with extra cream.