Random Drop

27(Part ll)

She was sitting at the table, resting her chin on her upturned palm as she waited on the jug to boil. Though the air was warm, she felt cold, her shaved head didn't help.

Pulling her jersey closer, the shrill whine of the jug made her stand, and as she ambled towards the bench, she caught her reflection in the window. A depressing sight to those who didn't know her, and a sad reality to those who did. Her hair, once shoulder length and glowing when the sun hit it was reduced to a sparse scalp that belonged to that of an inmate.

Her movements were sluggish and her hands trembled as she grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it down on the bench. With her mind elsewhere, it took her a moment longer to make her coffee, and when she had, she ambled back to the table and resumed her seat.

Watching as the steam from the coffee curl upwards, she rested her head on her arms, exhaustion from the day's events finally caught up with her.

With his hair still wet and a towel around his shoulders, he entered the kitchen. A quick shower made him feel fresher, but it hadn't removed the lingering guilt from their fight. She didn't move when he walked past, and he didn't expect her too. Spotting the coffee in front of her told him the jug was still warm and he made himself a cup.

Now, leaning against the bench, coffee in hand, he gazed at her form. She was studying the steam that curled up and away from her coffee, her eyes reminded him of a lost kitten and he longed to hold her close. The coffee growing to warm his palms brought his attention back why he had come downstairs in the first place, and as he was about to leave, her blue eyes flickered in his direction.

It was a long time before she returned her gaze to the coffee in front of her and sat up. Drawing the coffee close to her she inhaled its scent. Feeling a little revitalized by its comforting effects, she drank half slowly, savouring the taste and the memories that formed with them.

Much to her mother's annoyance, it was her father who introduced her to coffee at the age of nine. She remembered how he had laughed when she screwed her face in disgust, whining that was too bitter and that she would never touch it again. However, she enjoyed sitting on his lap, resting her chin on her arms and watching the steam from his coffee when he came home from work. She would often show her love for her father with little gestures and she was proud that he never missed a moment to reciprocate his.

As they say, all good thing must come to an end, and as it were, tragedy struck when she was eighteen; Her father was killed on his way home from work one evening by a speeding car whose driver was drunk. Too young, she remembered her mother having wailed over and over at his funeral, her hands gripping that of her and her sibling's shoulder as she broke under the grief that losing her husband had caused.

The death of her father had scared her, but it didn't scare as much as the news of cancer did. It was exactly a year since he had died when she found out about the illness, and she was in the bar that night wanting to forget the painful reality that was her life, and so, it was the same night she met her husband.

Why he chose her was something she was yet to ask as her husband was the kind that chased girls just for the thrill of it. Throughout their years together, she never asked him of the one night stands or the girlfriends he had, preferring to leave it in the past where it belonged as it wasn't important.