The morning air seemed to freeze my breath on contact. The door seemed to be standing guard to the outside, trying to stop me from going into the yard. It ran into my back, because my hands were full, filled with mugs and coffee hoppers. The fall air was turning frosty, making the leaves turn from colorful reds and oranges to a sickly hue of brown. The wind whipped at my face. No one would be outside in this…
The steam wafted off of my face while I sipped from my brown Einstein Brothers mug. I picked up the hopper and balanced it on our adobe fence, and continued to sip the black perk. After a careful balancing act, I offered coffee to morning drifters and midnight tweakers. Granted, I don’t know for sure if they were high the night before. Sometimes the stress from the grinds of life looks strangely similar to the symptoms of self-medication. Drawn eyes, limp arms, and an unhurried shuffles surrounded our front yard. As I sipped my coffee, I thought to myself, “Is this the kingdom of Christ?”
After a few takers of the best coffee I had in the house (the gourmetest of Folders original), activity seemed to settle. As I was about to put up my hoppers and head inside, a white, slightly dented Cadillac ambled its way in front of me, and rolled down its window. A teenager with a dew rag on his head stuck his face out of the window and exclaimed, “Hey bro!”
I looked around, “Hey?”
“You lookin’?” he asked.
"Lookin'?"
“You lookin’ for some Zanex or something?”
“Naw bro. I’m broke as a joke,” I said. He smiled.
Moments later, my roommate comes from behind me and states, “We got some coffee though. You like coffee?”
A look of shock came from his face, “Like, for free?”
“Yeah… like for free,” I said back.
“Naw bro, I’m go…” he started, but mid sentence the driver punched his shoulder and mumbled something. He sighed and said, “Can he have some?”
“Sure. S’why I made it.”
They drove forward a small ways and parked in front of the cracked curb. The small teen I had talked to before stepped out with the driver, a gangly looking young adult with a face that seemed to hang off his skull. I handed him a mug and he filled it with steam and perk.
Holding it with both hands, he brought the mug to his lips and took a long swig, and exhaled, “AHHH! S’good. The nectar of the gods.”
We laughed real hard. We laughed like remembered the same joke, laughed like we were family, laughed like we were drinking joy. And in that laughter, I felt the presence of God, holding my heart and warming my soul.
