Inspirational Smell of Coffee

I'm currently working on a paper for my Women in Literature class and I am struggling. What I had presumed to be a relatively easy exploration of the mulatto in Hurston's "Their Eyes Were Watching God" has become, well, stagnant. I'm at a loss. Scribbling and re-scribbling my thesis, changing my thesis, reworking my outline, wadding up sheets of legal pad (yes, I begin my papers and all short stories with actual pen to paper), and the sound of the kitchen clock, loudly tick-tocking  the count down to Thursday when the paper is due. Hopeless.

Then Brad runs out to the mailbox and enters with a small box in his hand. I could smell its contents as he entered the dining room. Snatching the box from his hand I read the familiar cursive, loopy yet elegant across the top...Seattle. My beautiful cousins in Seattle have saved me once again with just one pound of Sumatra organic coffee from Caffe Fiore. This coffee is a sweet elixir, filling my home wth the aroma of heaven because for me beyond those golden gates is a cozy coffee house. If it wasn't so late and I wasn't so sensitive to caffiene I would grind the dark cocoa colored beans and make a fresh pot. It is tempting. I know I could probably pound out my paper then, staying up til all hours engrossed in Zora and my Sumatra. But, I have to be at work early tomorrow and it will be a long day.

So, tonight I continue writing and re-writing. Reading over my sources, marking pages and sentences within my book in order to encapsulate what I have to say about such a beautifully written, yet narratively forceful novel. And inhale the richness that emits from that small, white box and long for tomorrow morn when I take that first sip. No snooze button for me.

Comments

[Fairy Covent]

Hello cousin!
I'm glad you received the coffee and it has saved you once again! May you and Brad enjoy!
Love to you!
Boo-Boo