To Get A Cup Of Coffee

I am blowing off steam. Support it.

My Beloved rests soundly on my watch.

COVID restrictions are tough, especially in a hospital. The Thirteen-Year Veteran will not be able to see his mother in person for a while, but I will be able to take my daughter tomorrow.

My Beloved is making progress, but she did have a massive stroke, and is still in the ICU.

As I wait for a Computed Tomography medical scan, coffee sounds delicious.

I like my coffee dark, bitter, raging like Jeptha the Beast. The first objective is to get a cup.

I have seen them before.

You see, the cup says,

this cup is compostable but compost facilities may not exist in your area.”

I would not soon forget such an ignorant, agenda-laden cup. You can compost nearly anywhere if it is your desire to do so.

From past experience, I determined they were from the first floor. I take the long treck from the ICU to the waiting room below.

For COVID concerns, or at least the outward appearance of them, the coffee maker, microwave, and phone charger are out of service.

I find the remnants of the coveted cups. This feels a little apocalyptic. I shared my methods and my supply will soon be diminished, requiring me to smuggle a watertight cylinder in next time.

Securing my compost cup, I proceed to the third floor.

The oily mixture falls angrily in the cup as if a kraken thrashed within. I listen closely and it threatens to eat my insides if I indulge.

I smile with delight as I look around. While there are no cups available, I see compost cups strewn about from the night before.

I had told a group of suffering stragglers about the process and the evidence of defiance remained in stir sticks and sugar packets on the tables. (Unable to photograph as people are there. It is a hospital.)

They too received free coffee. I feel like Johny Appleseed, a pioneer, or the founder of a movement.

I bring my lips to the coffee, its hatred spews venom and vehement contempt. It tries to negotiate, pleading for me to add cream and sugar for ease in going down to the pit. I refuse.

In retaliation, the coffee scalds my tongue and throat, attacking the walls of my stomach with vengeance. It has descended.

The coffee stands no chance. It has found its match.

I take my prize to the elevator and proceed to the fourth floor. Its many eyes stare into my soul, daring me to partake again. I oblige, repeating the process.

I am with my Beloved, coffee in hand.

Author: The Storyteller

Benjamin Thiel is a husband, father, correctional professional and author of The Ongoing Tale at Brothers Campfire. His favorite quote is "Don't count the lions. It will make you afraid and slow you down."

Author: The Storyteller

Benjamin Thiel is a husband, father, correctional professional and author of The Ongoing Tale at Brothers Campfire. His favorite quote is "Don't count the lions. It will make you afraid and slow you down."

53 thoughts on “To Get A Cup Of Coffee

  1. mattsnyder1970 says:

    The fact that the situation you are dealing with and how creatively wrote this story shows how much of an amazing writer you are.

    Reply
  2. cheriewhite says:

    I’m with Matt, Ben. The fact that you’re still able to write so eloquently during such a frightening ordeal shows true talent and that you’re a born writer. Know that you and your wife continue to be in my thoughts and prayers. 🙏🙏🙏

    Reply
    1. The Storyteller says:

      Thank you. She has slept most of the day and I am happy for it. She was in survival mode for a bit. Now she seems relaxed and healing.

      Reply
  3. Letitgocoach says:

    Your beloved and you are in my thoughts. You can compost anywhere and my side yard is testament. Hold tight to your cup of faith. ~Barb.

    Reply
    1. The Storyteller says:

      Thank you for the encouragement Barb! I challenged a landscaper to drop off all of his lawn clippings over the summer. He said I would not be able to handle all of them. At least 15 FULL pickup truckbeds later, I have composted it ALL. Good on you for composting.

      Reply
  4. kagould17 says:

    A worthy tale considering the circumstances Benjamin. The importance of accessible good coffee under trying circumstances can not be overstated. Wishing you coffee success in the future and wishing your beloved a return to good health. Allan

    Reply
  5. Kate Duff says:

    Hospitals are dread full places, enjoy your coffee and so glad you are with your beloved. I’ve been thinking of you both.

    Reply
    1. The Storyteller says:

      Thank you, Kate Duff. My inlaws are in town and helping so thatbis good. Hospitals are hard. I have been in them much too often.

      Reply
      1. Kate Duff says:

        I’m the same. Never sick myself but watching over someone I love has always been worse. May good fortune be with you both.

        Reply
  6. leendadll says:

    Physical discomfort can be soothing when we’re in emotional pain. And stickin it to the man is always a win in myboom!!

    Reply
      1. endorsum says:

        Little respect for those who pay!!!! Maybe it’s soluble powder from cardboard broth…. A protest is allowed: one must pamper those who suffer by waiting, it is a moral obligation 😉

        Reply
          1. endorsum says:

            As a good Italian, I love espresso and bitter coffee, to better appreciate the aromas of the blend… When I approach a vending machine it is out of desperation and I prepare myself by singing an ancient ritual chant, making superstitiy gestures and addressing a prayer to whoever would listen 😎

  7. Cassa Bassa says:

    LORD, You know what we need before we even ask. You know Benjamin and his beloved. You know their heart’s desire. You know You know You know. Our Father is an extravagant Father who gives extravagant gifts. Father may Your will be done in Benjamin and Isabell’s life. May their testimony glorifies You all the days of their life. In Jesus name, we trust You and we love You.

    Reply

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