Tragedy and woe struck the house. Wailing and lamenting, not to mention mourning took place.
Sure to those on the outside it might have seemed a bit much, but loss impacts us all differently. Some people are open with their emotions and grief cycle, and others are more stoic.
Beloved asked if he should say a few words as we stared at the horror at our feet. A cup of delicious coffee, properly adjusted to suit my taste, was puddling into the rug as it filled the air with its heavenly perfume.
Okay so perhaps that is a bit much for a cup of coffee, but when you adore and love coffee the way I do, this is a wasted of such potential. Potential to make me content and properly caffeinated for the day.
The dog joined our circle of mourning, he glanced up at beloved and then myself as though trying to figure out what was going on. He assessed things on his doggie level and then decided he needed to do something.
He moved towards the puddle we were attempt to clean up and showed us how it’s done. He started to lick the puddle, just to taste I’m certain. And then to roll in it, because what dog doesn’t want to be perfumed with fine coffee?
Beloved opted to deal with the dog, we needed to get him out of the house before he sprayed the room further with coffee and I cleaned up the puddle.
Alas poor coffee, I barely knew you, barely tasted your robust flavor. Hut you will be with us for a while, as we try to get you completely put of the carpet. Until that time your scent will linger and hover, like e ghost of one who has died with unfinished business.