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Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Midnight Coffee

I went out for a cup of coffee in the middle of the night.
I needed to clear my head from the utter clutter that had slowly taken over..
I was recently asked to share one of my short stories at "Story Telling Night", an event hosted by Metro Al Madina in Lebanon. The theme of the night was Eroticism, and so I chose to share a rewrite of an old short story I had written in the early days of this blog. For those who couldn't make it, or did but thought they'd read it again anyway, here's the story. Hope you enjoy(ed) it.

I went out for a cup of coffee in the middle of the night.
I needed to clear my head from the utter clutter that had slowly taken over my very ability to.. No wait, I called you.
I needed you there with me, wherever 'there' was going to be, to blow the dust off my soul and show me the way back home.. but you had better things to do and I ended up going out in the middle of the night, without you.

'I'll have a coffee please, no sugar'

I sat down with my thoughts staring at my cup, so black I wished it would swallow me for a change, but sip after sip the hole was becoming shallow and the night stared me down and said 'Just stay here and wallow'.

Our gazes met from across the room, her: lipstick and a dress, me: bad hair and gloom. After a walk that stretched a thousand miles I made my way to her and asked if she'd like to join me, she said she's just here for coffee, but wouldn't mind the company. So we sat and we drank until they ran out of pots, and by closing time we had gone through everything from small talk to Gordian knots.

I looked at her with a smile and asked: "Would you like to go for a ride ? I don't have a place in mind, we'll let the car decide". A few engine roars later we were on our way, her: shuffling through my CDs, me: one eye on the highway. We sang through songs of love, songs of devotion, a little blues, a little jazz, then a symphony of destruction. When the playlist was over our voices were sore but our lips were eager, she put her head on my shoulder, and our song turned into a whisper..

We had a view of the city and a view of the sea, a distant street light kept watch as she curled up against me and whispered in my ear: 'I think you should kiss me'. We wrote songs of passion, of lust and desire, we danced with hips and nips and bites and kisses, and we quenched our thirsts for each other's fires.

As the sun was rising there we were, two naked souls glistening in the morning dew, or was it just sweat, we kissed, got dressed, and made our way back to the city. Her hand in mine, we drove along the lonely early morning highway, her: smiling at the horizon, me: lost in thought. I thought about my mind and all the clutter that had taken over it, crippling it.. yet in that moment it was all gone. It was as if I was healed from a strange disease whose only remedy was a touch of intimacy that goes straight down to your soul, I felt revitalized, reborn, like an entirely new Me, dwelling on the memory of an old, dead, Me.

When we reached the coffee shop I parked the car next to hers. She looked at me with that same smile that had so irresistibly drawn me to her earlier that night, so I leaned over and kissed her. I told her how I was ailing when I first set eyes on her that night, that she was like a pill with everything I needed to get me through.. and I was healed, I was a new man.. And so I told her I couldn't see her again.

She didn't take it like I thought she would.

[image credit]


March 27, 2013 at 3:42 PM Reflectioneering

I really like the musicality of this rewrite. Well done!

March 27, 2013 at 4:28 PM Fadi

Glad you caught it !

March 27, 2013 at 11:55 PM Reflectioneering

You made it hard not to ;)

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