“Coffee is a lot more than just a drink; it’s something happening. Not as in hip, but like an event, a place to be, but not like a location, but like somewhere within yourself. It gives you time, but not actual hours or minutes, but a chance to be, like be yourself, and have a second cup” ~ Gertrude Stein
Is there such a thing as a perfect Sunday morning? Well there are those in the winter when you wake up to bright winter sun tunneling its way through the curtains but despite its illusion of warmth you know it is all a trick and you burrow down into the warm cocoon of your covers and breathe in the scent of your sleepy nest. Of course the sun can replaced with the pitter patter of rain or even the cold sharp bite of frost and snow but the warmth of your bed remains the place to be on a Sunday morning. Of course that bed is even better if you are not alone in it and the smell of fresh coffee tinges the air.
But then there are Sundays which happen at the other side of the year where the sun is no longer a liar but a siren’s call to you to rise from your slumber and step out into the its warmth and let the day begin with simple naked pleasures.
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