June drabbles - 14

We gather round the dining table; Mum with her tight dark curls at one end, then me and my brothers, then Dad. I’m hoping my older brother won’t start a row. He and Dad always argue politics over fish’n chips on Saturdays, but this is Sunday and we’ve been to church.

Coffee’s hot in the tall green pot, elegant, smooth-lined, smooth-scented with the warmth of hot milk. Dad pours into tiny cups. He mixed instant with the real stuff once when we ran short; a heresy worse than religion or politics.

The sun shines, shading my memories coffee-brown and sweet.

Comments

Alina said…
Oh I just love this! Now I MUST go and make myself a cup of coffee :0)

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