Through Foggy Glass

Hello....

I blew on the hot coffee and took a sip. It tasted a lot different than the usual coffee I bought from the store.

"Do you like it? The coffee beans are directly imported from South America to this cafe. You could say it's so the beans can maintain their authentic South American taste." I nodded and set my mug down on the table.

"Yeah it tastes, more Coffee-y than usual." he laughed and patted me on the back.

"Well...that my son is the quality brought by direct imported goods." He started shuffling around like he was looking for something , then handed me a small bag .

"Here, a couple beans for your morning brew, I can imagine you will need it." I took it and thanked him putting the small bag in my pocket.

I wanted to ask him a lot of questions, but none of them seemed to come out of my mouth. I still didn't understand why I was suddenly remembering him after all these years. Or why my mom hadn't bothered talking to me about him even after I was an adult, did she really hate him that much?

"Well, you must have a lot of questions Davon, I know I have a lot I want to ask you too. But before we start playing twenty questions I have one situation I still can't understand. When that man called me about you, why did he say you were my son?"

 I stopped mid way from drinking my coffee thinking about how to respond.

"Well, I have a question to ask you too, Why didn't you deny it and came to get me?" He was silent for a moment then put his elbows on the table.

"I believe action speaks for it's self and answers the mysteries of many questions. My actions...are your answers." he got up.

"I would love to keep talking but I have a show tomorrow all day, but if you have time, call me and we can keep talking here tomorrow. Is that ok?"

I nodded and he patted me on my back.

"Well, ill be off now. See you tomorrow."

He walked towards the door and briefly turned around, then he pushed the door open and headed down the street.

I silently drank my coffee as my thoughts raced. Images of memories with my dad, with new ones poping up filled in the blanks from the past. I watched them like a movie feeling my emotions change with every memory passing through my mind.

"Why now? Why are these memories racing now?"

Sighing I reached for my stick and got up to head to the door. As I walked towards it, I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

"Um...Davon?" I turned around, I knew who that voice was. I hadn't heard it in years. I felt a little sting as I turned around to face her.

"Hello Jaleane, how have you been?"