sigh… writing time

Alice felt the coffee’s steam flow effortlessly into her lungs, filling them with its heat. Her arms’ thin hairs stood up, adjusting to the internal change in temperature, giving her more goose bumps and a sudden need to scratch them off. She placed the full cup gently on the table and scratched her arms though her thin morning sweater, feeling some warmth wrap her from inside and a comfortable feeling began to settle in. She labeled this particular sweater her morning sweater becuase it was the most loose-fitting one; it was thin, which worked great indoors, and it was overused, so it fit her perfectly the way she wanted.
She always had her Folgers’ instant coffee with boiling hot water, but last night George surprised her when he had come home with a bag of ground coffee and a coffee maker even though he rarely drank coffee, Alice wasn’t sure what to think of this. She was grateful for the gift; the thought was nice, but she wondered how much longer George thought, or hoped, she would stay.
She turned her head to the side and covered her mouth with the sleeves of her sweater and drew in a long yawn, and took in the smell of cleanliness. She had just washed her sweater the night before, and it smelled of Morning Dew, the powdered detergent that she favored over the liquid one. The rough powder seemed like a more powerful soap that scrubbed away the dirt instead of swishing it around with the water.

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1 Comment

Filed under pieces

One response to “sigh… writing time

  1. I like that…it made me feel like I was inside of Alice’s head….with the tease of a relationship on the brink between the two of them.

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