Happiness-Free Coffee

It was the first morning after his wife had passed away. Fifteen years of inseparable togetherness had broke into small pieces of, nothing. After a long sleepless night of restlessness he decided to get off his bed and prepare some coffee. The powerful weakness of denial that she had passed away, goaded him to pour coffee in two coffee cups, instead of one. In the living room, he looked out the window and contemplated the sun rise, that beautiful image of nature that brought back the memory of her. With a heart sealed with pain he turned back to look at her glass framed picture. The fresh coffee, turned to be bitter as falling tears mixed with it. Gazing at her picture, he heard a voice whisper.. “ Good morning dear.. “ . Waves of distress crashed into him, like the azure waves do in the ocean. He felt like a dried up sea, without her, he suffered from emptiness. He turned the picture to face the other sofa. But those waves of distress had turned into a roaring tide, longing to see her smile once again. He frantically rushed to the other sofa, with reckless motion. This time, he had drowned in the ocean of grief that had sucked him down into it’s bottom. The strong desire of wanting to forget about her, made him furiously collect all her pictures and burry them in the closet filled with her clothes and belongings. Irritated, he got dressed and rushed to work. After hours of stress and hard work, he went back home. Famished and exhausted, he went to the kitchen to prepare dinner for himself. Unconsciously, he found himself running out of the kitchen with two cups of coffee and the strong need of seeing her again. His hands shivered as he opened the doors to her closet. He inhaled her perfumed clothes, as he rapidly collected all her pictures, the same way kids cheerfully collect candy. With no notice of what he was doing, he lined up all her pictures on his bed. Contemplating her face, he wept as he tried to drink his coffee.