The healing effect of coffee

Black as the devil, hot as hell. Pure as an angel, sweet as love. That’s what coffee is.
 - Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Perigord

Coffee and books go together so well. Coffee and life. Also coffee and red grapes, for some reason.

And so do coffee and mornings after nights of cartwheeling debauchery quiet evenings at your friends' house.

And by the way, how novel is this idea?


I am aware that there are people on this planet who don't like coffee. My oh my. I guess it is possible. Maybe you like gin better. Maybe you like water. Or maybe it's possible you even like such a thing as decaf. (People must or the stores wouldn't stock it, would they?) But whatever you like, I hope it is as healing as a good old fashioned cup o' joe.

Cappuccino. Cafe mocha. Caffe Latte. Espresso. Coffee. Milky. Black. With sugar. Or without. Tall. Grande. Venti. One shot or two.

It is the sun shining even on a gray day. It is warm when you've pulled your sorry bag of bones out of bed, especially on days when you really, really don't want to, and so it is like a nice blanket of warmth in a mug.

And even more than that: it is not just a drink. It is art.

Art.

And so I'm going to make myself another cup now. And then, in maybe fifteen more minutes, I will be ready to take on the world. Just give me fifteen minutes.

Have a rejuvenating Sunday.