A coffee's scent coiled in the air, brushing the underside of nose. A following necessity was created to revive the senses after a turn of many events. Rapid ascension in mood made apparent by the energy loaned to a man who had somewhat of a problem getting up without a groan these days. Leaning against the comfort of his counter, the space that gave the platform to think while the juices of the morning took a while to reach at a functioning level, kept him put. His trusty and sometimes predatorily feline companion, watched over at the height of the refrigerator’s top. Leering and quiet but not once ready to swipe at the man who had been in an untouched daze. Paws reached out more than once, not going through with it fully, was the precursor for the Sunday morning. Coffeemaker's drip made one last drain after the brewing process settled to its end. As what was done. What needed to be done was a finished look at what the day was supposed to bring.

People were over the night before. Enjoying a film mixed with cheesy horror and comedy. Keeping the faith in campiness alive that the mind trailed over to what followed there after. When the people departed leaving only one behind. He left no hesitation in preparing the coffee. Getting two mugs together at the ready because sharing was a goal that should have extended to more than a day. His senses carried to familiarity. A territory that ceased just a few years ago, as intimacy had a way of being shared. This time was the cornerstone of false shooting in a reality that was unreal with no sight in breaking free from. Lyle mused in the sight of sun breaching his kitchen and an idea to prep a skillet for a simple breakfast. The things he once turned to when living in the home shared by multiple people, were starting to flood his sights. Flushing out the current day keeping him in the prism of residing in a 4 bedroom home by himself.

Only for a short period of time was he truly by himself. Spending an off moment in blindly caught between a daydream and what was real. There would be the creak of stairs to sound off the footsteps approaching the level. None of which were from teenage kids but the woman who he once rushed into the madness of marriage with. Being a heavy stepper for such a petite person, never had a thought to change and even if the fantasy that was manifesting in such a nostalgic way, was true, an exaggeration brought its possibility to life. Pouring away at one cup, he made sure to fill it halfway leaving enough space for creamer. The dairy wasn’t of his choice when deciding on what to add. The best part of waking up was more than Folgers. It was a sense of security and belonging that in the state of astronomical issues hanging about two heads, none it became the sole reason to begin drifting apart.

Stopped in mid pour towards the second cup, he drifted again. Not upright ready to lean more that provided a place to sleep. But to let the place in which he thought that the past had caught up to him in a more consequential way.

“ He released a hand from hers to cascade along her arm. Afraid to admit to missing the moments presented as such. He did. Often kept up late in what was left behind without having the worth all to fight a little bit harder to let it go, but the image of her rage snagged at his armor. Causing guilt to snare him deeply without a way to freely work towards a bound contract that had been years in the making. He recalled telling her a long time ago, that he had admired the relationship his grandparents had. Only because they went through a lot but also had the strength it took to work through it all, whereas his own parents had been a toxic pair for not only themselves as people but as parents. The worst he was afraid of, was becoming like them. At their worst, they decimated what good faith their children had in them because it directly impacted their livelihood, including interpersonal relationships for years to come. ”

Once the years shaped into a piece of a pie, he engulfed it whole. Finding more advantages in the disadvantages presented. Like the coffee that soon spilled a little against the counter, his adjusted night uprooted the images of perfection just in a moment's notice. Freedom was sought after in the sharing of a space, a bed, bodies even that should have made the most in not troubling self to be left with images of the past. Jumping to one morning and the next, recalling the routine arrival to the kitchen, especially after splitting herself in known positions of yoga, ran like a rewound VHS tape. He steadied the hand that shook. A short tremble to latch upon the mug's handle in a resurfaced moment that took reign and some pleasure of whispering like air behind him as a ghost would. Apparitions of the past were on grounds paved in mercy and possible second chances, despite the way he felt of it.

Before the change in surface to floor, he caught himself from over stirring. Plucking the spoon and flinging it into the sink. Difference in the way the coffees looked to another. One lightened by the sugar of flavored creamer and the other pitch black with hints of sugar to accompany its bitter palette. Plain as the day that snuck up on him, crushed would follow the minutes or hours that recollections to the processed memories of yesterday affected. A shudder parted ways of a common daydream, unsettled left by its departing burn. Wiry strands of hair were quickly raked through as the steps heaviest near the bottom of the stairs, alerted to who was coming. Not for the accustomed way of welcoming a new day when suddenly it was all foreign in hindsight. But for the running language of confusion and ‘why did we do that?’ Lyle was aware of the questionable actions on both of their parts. It was another issue whether regrets paved a way to an awkward good morning.

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