Morning Joe

2 Jan

Just a spot of flash fiction for you all this morning. Happy hump day!

morning joe coffee 2

Morning Joe

He took a long sip of coffee and then spluttered ferociously. “What is this stuff?” he coughed. “It tastes like cat pee!”

“Oh,” I looked down at the table guiltily. “It’s, erm some old coffee.”

“Jesus!” He began wiping the spots of sprayed coffee from his sports jacket. “How old?”

I shrugged. I honestly didn’t know. I’d just found it in the pot. Good to know it wasn’t worth drinking. I pushed my own mug away from me before I could start automatically bringing it to my lips.

“So,” I ventured, dodging his eyes, “how are you?”

I could feel him glowering at me. “Fine.”

I shuffled my feet under the table. “You don’t sound fine…”

“I’m fine, dammit!” His fist met the table with a loud thump! “Why can’t you ever just take what I have to say?”

I felt the tell-tale clench of my throat and prepared myself to bite back tears. “Sorry.”

Across the table, he melted. “No,” his voice was suddenly all softness and rich notes, like a properly brewed cup of coffee, “no, I’m sorry. It’s just early, and I’m, um, not adequately caffeinated yet. It’s my fault for being so irritable.” He looked down at the spurious brown liquid before him. “It’s, uh, really not that bad. Really.” He took a long draught. I watched him make a face but swallow the joe anyway.

Well, he was trying. Not succeeding very well, but trying.

And it helped a little.

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