Listening to… (a little story)
Sitting at the table, caught in my thoughts, they feel so compulsive and unwilling to release their grip on me. They keep returning, again and again, refusing to let me be. I attempt to get back to the memories when I am clean out of all this garbage.
In the background, I hear the familiar sound of the coffee machine, signaling the arrival of my coffee. I sit “here, cherishing the first sip. I cradle the cup, feeling its warmth in my hands. Listening to the sounds around me…
