Black Coffee

Do you like drinking it?

A magical, morning elixir to some and dismal, dreary motor oil to others — it’s a strange potion. I don’t remember exactly when I started taking my coffee black, devoid of milk and sugar. I guess that is not important; let me just say that I like the feeling of the bitter, warm liquid pouring down my throat. (Except for this one time when I was hungover — last year, in fact — and I thought drinking some Americano would help settle the uneasiness inside of me from the night before. It did not! Because the hot coffee I drank came back out in a state of sick — and it was just as warm as it gushed from my throat. TMI? I’m writing freely, friends.)

What else about black coffee?

It comes served in these cute little cups, for one (if you’re not drinking at home, that is), and I also really love the dainty cups coffee shops use to serve espresso shots. Still trying to build a collection of those, but I must have a home first. Must have a home, first. Must have a home, first. Home. Home! Okay, it’s been tattooed now, thank you very much!