what remains is unreal and unimportant

 

Ficciones by Jorge Luis Borges

8 min @ Farenheit

A nickel sized circle of brown bliss sat at the bottom of the cup.  Chloe had stopped herself from draining the cup because she didn’t want the delicious moment to end.  It was her first Turkish coffee.  It was good, but that’s not what made the moment so precious.  It was his kindness and attention, his shy but direct appeal to let him create something special for her when she floundered  with her order.  She wondered if she could fall in love with a boy like him, a nice boy who smiled with his eyes.  She wanted to believe she could but a cup of coffee lasted for such a short while.  Then what?  She should just leave a tip and walk away.