Chapter 8:

Breakfast and Coffee

A Place of Our Own


The light slowly envelopes the dining table and nips at the receding shadows. As I sit facing the window, the coffee maker chimes and the blue light signals the completion of the brewing. Despite the area having so many coffee shops, I still prefer making it at home. I buy the coffee at the discount store, a cheap label printed with bland lettering that tells you just how fresh it is. It's equivalent would probably be the Walmart donut shop variety; stored in a round aluminum container and when you you open it, there's a thin metal sheet that ensures freshness, but once you pull back the sheet all you can smell is bitterness. And no amount of coffee creamer or milk can mask the burnt taste, but that's the only way I can enjoy my coffee. 

I toast a slice of bread as the coffee cools on the table. And as it warms, I slice a red apple the size of my fist. Each item in its bowl, I walk to my seat, place the food on the mat and face the window once again. Having breakfast every morning is my routine, and it ensures that I get the necessary nutrients. The doctor said that in order for our bodies to be healthy we need to have a routine in our daily activities, and to rotate our food. By balancing and rotating our diets, we can improve our health and give our bodies the necessary nutrients and minerals it requires to function. So for breakfast I have a coffee, a slice of toast, and an apple, and tomorrow I'll have a coffee, a slice of toast, and a banana, and the next morning I'll have a coffee, a slice of toast, and a cup of strawberries, and the morning after that I'l have a coffee, a slice of toast and a cup of melon. 

The hour says 7:33 as I finish buttoning my cardigan and packing the last of my folders into my bag. I quickly run to the genkan, open the doors to my shoe closet and in a desperate search attempt to localize my brown slip ons. I have over twenty pairs of shoes, for all occasions, every season and in every color. I always wear the same three pairs, and I can't help but wonder what am I preparing for with that many shoes? At the very top, placed in between a pair of sneakers and white heels are the brown leather wedges I wore that night. They have a thick straps that holds just below the ankles with a clasp made of golden bronze and etched on the sides are embroidered maroon flowers in full bloom. You'd think they appear childish, and yet when I wore them they seemed to make me older, giving my appearance an edge I did not naturally possess. At the time I didn't know that would be the reason why he approached me and those beautiful flowers I had once cherished would no longer make me feel like a woman. It's the little details that hold the greatest influence and only when their lost in the past, do we realize too late just how much they meant. And the just like every flower withers after blooming, so did their meaning.