Happy Monday! Here’s a little story to start the week.
Steam
Six months after his wife died, Bill walked downstairs and made two cups of coffee.
He’d done this before, but only ever by accident: reaching for a second mug, sometimes getting all the way to the milk and sugar before realizing his mistake.
Those were hard days. This was something different.
As the coffee swirled around her favorite mug (you never really forgot everything, how could you?) he dropped the spoon into the dishwasher and carried the mugs to their little breakfast nook by the window.
Then he sat. Watched the steam rise from the other side of the table.