Coffee Cup

2

Finally at home after today's fiasco, you take off your shoes and throw them together with the dirty laundry. Next on the list is a glass of bourbon and a hella hot shower, digging graves is no joke, your poor body deserves a break. You pad over to your bathroom, still wearing your work attire and flip the switch. The dim light flickers on, revealing the chipped paint and water stains that have been there since you moved in. You sigh and grab a towel, hanging it neatly on the rack before opening the medicine cabinet. Inside, you keep a few essential items: toothpaste, toothbrush, some antacids, and a bottle of ibuprofen. You reach for the ibuprofen, popping two pills into your mouth and chasing them down with some tap water. Now, the bourbon. You pour yourself a generous glass and take a long, satisfying sip, letting the warmth spread through your body.

The hot water finally beckons you, and you step into the shower, wincing as the warm water hits your sore muscles. You stand under the stream for a while, letting the water wash away the dirt and grime from the day. You reach for the soap and start scrubbing, taking your time to clean every inch of your skin. As you stand there your thoughts wonder on to poor dead Jim, if only he wasn't such a piece of shit maybe he would still be alive, no use pondering on what could have been now, it is what it is. You finish up quickly, towel drying yourself off and throwing on an old, worn out pair of sweatpants.

With your bathroom business taken care of, you pad over to your bed and collapse onto the soft mattress, staring up at the ceiling. Your mind drifts to the usual, the meaningless banter of human existence, the absurdity of it all. You close your eyes and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

Your tiny apartment is silent save for the faint hum of the refrigerator down the hall. It's comforting in a way, the silence. It's a reminder that even in the midst of all this chaos, there are moments of peace. You reach over and turn off the lamp on your nightstand, plunging the room into darkness. You curl up under the covers, feeling the familiar warmth of your bed envelop you. Thank fuck tomorrow is your day off from work.

You wonder what the hell you're going to do with yourself. Maybe go to the park, read a book, catch up on some much-needed sleep. Or maybe you'll just sleep in and wake up at the crack of noon, watching reruns of your favorite show and eating ice cream straight out of the carton. The thought makes you chuckle softly.

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, the warm rays of the sun casting a soft glow across your messy bedroom, and you can't help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment just by existing. You stretch your arms above your head, yawn expansively, and roll out of bed. The floor is cold against your bare feet, but it's a welcome sensation after the oppressive heat of the sheets. You pad over to the window, leaning against the sill as you watch the world outside begin to stir.

The neighborhood looks peaceful, as if everyone's taking the day to catch up on sleep or enjoy their leisure time. You spot a few people out for walks with their dogs, others sitting on their porches drinking coffee or reading the paper. It's a familiar scene, one you've seen a thousand times before, but there's something comforting about it. It's the little moments like these that make you appreciate the simple things in life.

You decide to take advantage of your day off and make yourself a nice, leisurely breakfast. You rummage through your kitchen, searching for something that'll strike your fancy. After much consideration, you settle on some pancakes and a couple of eggs. The smell of cooking fills the air as you carefully flip the pancakes on the stove, making sure not to burn them. You're quite the chef, you think to yourself with a satisfied grin.

Once breakfast is finally done, you sit down at your small kitchen table, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. The pancakes are fluffy and the eggs are cooked just right, and you can't help but feel content. You take your time eating, savoring each bite, and letting the world outside continue its slow, steady march towards whatever it is that it does. You know there are things you should probably do today, chores and errands and whatnot, but for now you're in no hurry. The only thing missing is a good coffee and a smoke. After taking care of the dishes you make yourself a nice cup of coffee and walk to the small balcony attached to the kitchen.