Breakfast

This one's a bit short, but it's still very new.

In the distance I can hear a bubbling. The sound of water heating, mixed with the steam which is making its way through the nearby door are signs that the concoction is complete. I can hear them inside, pouring the mixture into the designated containers, each destined to find its way to the assigned participant. The workers come out in waves carrying the liquid, dressed in identical uniforms. White on black, no color, that’s against regulation. And then it arrives. The first thing I notice is the smell. It has a surprisingly enjoyable smell, almost welcoming. This feeling is soon lost. Once it is laid before me, I can see its color; a solid, deep black through which nothing can be seen. Looking back I can see my reflection on the surface and next to this sits the mirrored face of the one who delivered the substance. She’s waiting to make sure I do it. She’s waiting to make sure I do what I agreed to do. At this time the ceramic basin is brought to my face. I can feel the heat pouring off of the liquid, covering my face in a wave of steam. It is then brought to my lips, and very slowly poured down my throat. The initial sensation is that of a stinging burn, a wave of heat which envelops my entire tongue. I’m lucky because this initial burn quickly makes my taste buds numb to the harsh bitter flavor it gives off. This burning then makes its way through my body into my stomach where it becomes a boiling addition to my acidic insides. After being given a moments rest following this initial exposure, the cup is once again brought to my mouth, the black substance a little less hot. It’s not as bad this time around. The server then leans down and tells me, “Careful now, the coffees fresh.”