Rain in the Black

April 29, 2010
By RianGray BRONZE, New Brunswick, New Jersey
RianGray BRONZE, New Brunswick, New Jersey
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Stretch your arm to the full moon. That is the world’s only truth and the answer.

Mr. Himstale was starting his morning, only as usual, preparing for his coffee, which been referred harmony of joy through all the 5-senses human ever possessed. His coffee was not actually scheduled to make in the day of first April, in fact he never decided to make one, only performed so called artwork of black fragrance; he always drink a cup of coffee, but the ways of brewing varies. When Mr. Himstale’s eye glanced on the tea cabinet where he kept his cups and brewers of his moment, he realized instantly with no good reason that the day he we will meet is going to be far more than other ordinary days.
Meanwhile, he was enjoying serenely this moment of decision, fixation of eyes focused on new captivator in his cabinet, which been seemed like sun shining only at on point; but the sun was not shining, only hiding behind the thick curtain of clouds. Soon he felt the warmth and fresh wind with full of hard brown smell in it, feeling sunlight under abundant leaves of Sugar Maple where he loved to spend time within it. He reached his hand to the cabinet, pulling out the pleasure of shining sun, and breathed deeply to smell the wooden base of Siphon, one of his best coffee maker, which has used maple tree to make support for the glass bowls. Remembering the first coffee he tasted made by his own father at summerhouse with Siphon, he could not resist any more to use it.
Memory of first coffee was bitter as well as for him; watching the brewing secession was only thing that fascinated him to coffee. The Siphon, unusual coffee maker had been used during the session, which needs the own heat source other than just electrical charger to boil water. Moreover, unique shape of the Siphon, essentially having 2 glass bowls in vertical row and one glass tubes that connects the bowls, lets the boiling water from bottom glass to move upper one, which has finely grinded beans in it. After few minutes, one can try the soft in taste but grand orchestra from its redolence. Since his father didn’t have any kind of talent in barista, first tempt was bitter enough to stop him, he never did.
By the time he started to grind his special beans from Ethiopia, one of the best coffee producers in the world, he could imagine how it will be, smelling sweet flowers’ singing; Ethiopian coffee he chose was famous for the natural sweet flower flavor for who drinks coffee. But what he felt from grinder was not only the breath from fresh coffee but also the deep breath of lady behind him. “You’re late. I already started my grinding.” He answered to the quiet footsteps from her. “Actually, you could’ve felt how amazing what I saw while I’m choosing my coffee for today. It reminds me the baptism I saw last week.”
The lady suddenly appeared behind neither laughed or amazed from his experience, but let her down in many ways. After she flapped few times on her dress, which trimmed and decorated with personating colors of purple flowers, she made her statement. “You need to stop here. The line you passed is asking further than you ever imagined. Admit that you’re addict and stop!” She finished her strong statement with raising her clear voice.
“You see,” he said, “Siphon is not original name of this kind of brewers. Name we are using nowadays named after the one company’s brand name. It’s funny isn’t it? Nobody cares about the truth but the confidence.”
“And I believe that confidence is where you just cannot resist on. You’re losing it. Hold you’re and look at me!” She took his hand and brought it her cheek, tried to give him senses about what reality is.
“And now, you are disturbing me.” He said, after he took back his hand from her, “The interesting part which I wouldn’t say it is interesting if you did not disturb me, was that group of people, in this case the society, can make up any kind of things for their own confidence. Even it against someone or something.” He swallowed. “Addiction is only just one of those kinds of fake disease, best way eliminate any kind of opposition in the society with good scientific evidences.”
“You really sure about what you just said?” She debated. “Do you really think, the drugs and the crime in the city are just only a result of public elimination of inconvenience? The Caffeine, Himstale, Caffeine is chemical substance. It might help you to clear you mind and get rid of sleep in your eye for short terms. You can’t just ignore the symptoms you’re suffering from. You can’t even keep yourself up without the coffee, than still you think you are just normal like the others who walking on the streets? We both agreed on that the Caffeine is all about it.”
“I believe that we also agree that coffee is common drink like tea.” He made simple expression, thinking that her claims are preposterous. “Let’s see what is the addiction. I still remember the definition you read, first time you break through in my house. ‘The state of being enslaved to a habit or practice.’ By saying ‘enslaved to a habit or practice,’ it only means constant subconscious action is only a psychological illness. Well, it’s quite sure that everybody is addicted to oxygen, if that what you mean.”
She laughed in hollow. Laughter she just made was not real come-out of happiness; it was the pure crimson-colored fear. “I would not take anymore of this word game. Human body needs oxygen to live, but you don’t! You started to drink coffee since you’re 16, and before the age of 16, you were still alive! You weren’t dead or in unconscious status. This is the difference between you and I. I admit things that logically explained whether it harms me or not while we are arguing over this problem. And you, you just don’t want to lose your moment of morning ceremony. It makes you dependent from it.”
He opened the grinder carefully, where he was working on during the argument. He could still feel the fresh brown from it. He lit the wick one of his match and pushed the lamp under the Siphon. He lost deep in thought for few seconds. “Do you know why people drink wine during their parties and celebration?” He opened his talk with it. “Because people do not know any substitution for it. Actually, it seems none of people ever tried to look for it! They just think, drinking wine annually makes their life healthier and happier. In fact, the reason why people still drinks the wine or alcohol is, because none of us is free from it. Instead, we simply allow our self to drink it regularly.” He watched his lamp for few seconds. “Dependent does not mean it bad, only means its complementary process.”
She wanted to close her eyes for seconds and have moments of alone without this argument. But she knew herself, she shouldn’t. She didn’t have enough time for it. “The reason it is so called addiction, because without it you can’t even function! Though you are still biologically stable, neither dead nor in coma, you cannot even get out from bed without it! Why don’t you try to stand yourself! Remembering the memories of old days would help you meditate, but not your life! Reading newspaper, talking with neighbors, are these so hard for you? Do not try to avoid from it!” She yelled from her heart possibly loud she can. Her voice wasn’t just fearful.
Mr. Himstale, soon he heard the lady’s last words to him, starting to shake his body nervously and grinded his teeth with vexation. He hold his breath, which would bear only the sharp offending against her, so that he would not betray himself. He wanted calm voice from his throat once his mother did and compelling but short speech once his father delivered. Though, he failed. “I drink coffee, because it lets me function! Because, it lets me forget about my past, my pain, and my other memories that I want to forget! Because you, you and your people, I drink coffee! Because without coffee, I can’t stay in there! Because without coffee, I can’t stay functioning in society, but left behind as worthless!”
The lady who had stood behind the Mr. Himstale finally made her mind to leave his room, and never come back. Her tears from her eyes started to drop rainy, and her footsteps again became silent. In this moment, Mr. Himstale was taking the bottom bottle out of the wooden Maple tree support for last settlement of problem. He eventually reached his hand to the cup, and put it underneath his end of nose, looking for the pleasure of sun and the flowers. But he has never looked behind him. He had never seen her, opening the doors. Neither she nor he saw the door had opened in this graceful morning. And because Mr. Himstale never looked behind, never seen the lady in the flower dress, left his room or disappearance of her back into him.

The author's comments:
Always welcome advice or suggestion to improve my skill of writing or the work itself! All of my works are uploaded on my website to, www.ruined-world.com. This is the story about anyone who reads this. -I believe this is the shortest and clearest way of explain what I intended to say in the writing-

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