Coffee

6:30, 25.5C, Sunny Monday morning. Still cool for a midsummer day.
A glass of iced coffee is the thing for a morning like this. Out in the balcony sitting on the top step of the wooden stairs, I sip the bitter awakener looking down the whole town allowing the heart-refreshing breeze to lick me all over... That's some experience not easily described. "Clink clink" from the ice cubes as I tip the glass, like long forgotten sound of a wind bell.
Beaded water on the cold glass. One of them outgrows others and starts trickling down like in a Brownian motion, gaining speed as it gathers neighbors, stops for a hesitant moment at the glass bottom and drops onto my lap. Its coldness bridges between the water and me.
The wooden stairs in the balcony is a year old, weathered under merciless sunlight in summer, torrential rain of typhoons, and everyday up and down stomp of my wife for drying laundry. Chaps and cracks are all over the dark brown surface. It may need re-painting...

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