Hot Coffee
this morning i made myself a hot coffee, something i rarely do. i fill a small metal tea infuser with coffee grounds. i place it in a repurposed glass queso jar. i boil some water in a pot on the stove, and pour it over the infuser. i loosely close the lid and let the coffee steep. it's sitting on my desk right now, in between myself and my keyboard. i take my first few sips. the scent of a fresh, warm, black cup of coffee wafts up to my nose. the sun shines through the window at just the right angle. and suddenly, i'm hit with all of these memories. because drinking hot coffee happens on rare occasion for me, each time i do is linked to a memory or a feeling. early morning road trips gas station stops mcdonalds breakfast before i was the coffee drinker hotel breakfast waking up to a house filled with cousins, aunts, and uncles the living room floor lined with blankets and pillows getting my "free" cup of coffee on my early morning flight to a conference (before i