Coffee Log, Year 2, Day 176

Hi.

Coffee: Bottled Cold Brew Coffee, Trader Joe’s Brand; for bottled coffee it had a good taste; hell, it had a good taste to cupped coffee too; quick like late nights you spend on the town; full-bodied as a stranger’s bed

I got in a drinking contest with a two-year old. He had a fizzy water and I had a beer. Every time he drank, he made this face that said ‘what is this,’ squinted eyes, wrinkled nose. Then he’d point at me and I’d take a swig of pale ale, doing my best impression of him. This went on a while. Finally, though, the kid beat me. I had to put the can down. When he saw I was finished, he pointed at me again, only this time he was laughing. Fair game, buddy – you won.

We went in the woods this morning, me and E. She was hunting mushrooms. I tried to be her spotter but all the ones I picked out were wrinkled with white maggots. It made me think I might be haunted – drawn to the dead decomposers, the ghosts of ghosts. It was hot in the morning but not too hot. There were other families in the woods. I watched a dad strap his daughter in a backpack and take off running. She bounced like a dropped coin all caught in the bar lights, bright and happy, two white teeth, no older than my drinking buddy.

At a table under a black locust tree you showed me videos of the two-year-old playing ‘freeze.’ He watched over your shoulder and smiled at himself. It made me wonder what it must be like to grow up knowing your moments are there to dance with at the press of play – that the slippery little details of who you are have been saved to record. His eyes went wide to shots of himself splashing in a tub. You held the phone like the suds might slip out.

Where’s all the heat go when nights rolls in? Does it board a train headed southbound, knock on crisp red doors in Florida suburbs, lounge around with a TV dinner drinking hot coffee? Does it stay awake in Caribbean state bedrooms, red-eyed and frustrated, seeing itself in a thousand stars that are too far to get in touch with? I don’t know.

Midnight comes in, old dead bark, growing mushrooms.

Currently Reading: Queen, Suzanne Crain Miller

Support Relief for Family Suffering at the Border  – RAICES DONATION CAMPAIGN

Like locusts shall they gather themselves together, the servants of the Star and the Snake, and they shall eat up everything that is upon the earth.

Aleister Crowley

Coffee Log, Day 46

Hi.

Coffee: Venti Starbucks Americano

I had to get more coffee filters from the Harris Teeter. I buy the recycled kind. It makes me a feel better. On the way out of the store, I ordered coffee at the Starbucks. There was all this rain coming down. The barista was half my height, half-again my age, and bright-eyed. I talked about the rain and called it gloomy. She called it lovely. She told me she was from India and she talked about the monsoons. Then she said last week’s pollen reminded her of Holi.

I added the April Contest to the site! Find the details up top in the menus. If you enter and win I’ll send you a curated book. Free books aren’t bad, right?

Currently Reading:
Tar Baby, Toni Morrison

Fund the Coffee Log 🙂https://ko-fi.com/livesaywriting  

“I am not the only man to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still, there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.” – Jhumpa Lahiri, The Third and Final Continent

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Coffee Log, Day 40

Hi.

Coffee: Cafe Pajaro, Extra Dark, Trader Joe’s Brand

Happy April! The March Short Story Contest is over and we have a winner! I’ve contacted her and she’s coming up with a topic so you’ll see the brand new short story on the site soon! Thank you so much to all the people who entered. I’ve got some ideas for an April contest and I’ll post about it soon.

It’s been a long week. It’s felt like limbo. Last night I drank some red wine and my brain felt mushy. This morning, it still feels mushy. The sun’s out, very bright, I hear kids playing. Easter – the holiday was always chocolate rabbits for me, nothing else. Today there’s no chocolate but I can still tell it’s a holiday: friction in the air like rope burns. I might go out and see the town. I like it when places are all closed for something. All those dark lightbulbs and pulled shutters mean people have somewhere lovely to be.

Currently Reading:
Tar Baby, Toni Morrison

Fund the Coffee Log 🙂https://ko-fi.com/livesaywriting  

“These people privatized their houses by turning them backward away from the street, but publicized their lives and talked about wine as though it were a theology instead of a drink.” – Toni Morrison, Tar Baby

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