Mornings

A man wakes up at 6:11 on a Thursday morning to the sound of his wife putting away dishes they left on the drying rack overnight.

He mumbles “Good morning” from the other side of their small studio apartment. He gets out of bed and staggers to the bathroom, attempting to avoid tripping over either of the two pets. He pees, washes his hands, puts toothpaste on his toothbrush, and begins brushing his teeth. His wife joins him in the bathroom where they exchange answers to the question “How did you sleep last night?” He returns his toothbrush, takes his B-12 supplement, and puts on his glasses.

Steam begins to escape through the holes atop the kettle. He takes the kettle, switches off the stove, and slowly pours the water in a circular motion over freshly ground coffee beans sitting in the top half of the Chemex.

It’s still dark outside and there’s a gentle rain falling from the sky.

He pours coffee into her mug first, making sure she gets enough before pouring the rest into his. There’s always enough coffee for them both, but he likes to think he’s being selfless by pouring hers first.

Picking up his mug, he moves toward the couch and opens the window, letting the cool breeze in. He sits in his usual spot and raises the mug to his lips to take that first sip as the steam fogs his glasses. Closing his eyes, he feels the warmth land on his tongue, move down his throat, and splash into his stomach.

He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.