Sitting on the couch here, my body relaxes instantly and it makes me realize how tightened up my body has been for such a long time; as if clenching your fist for five minutes straight, your hand trembles involuntarily after letting go.
Every Friday night, I try to get off work as early as possible hoping to be here before seven o’clock so that I can sit for at least an hour.
“Cap.” I said to the barista. This is our secret code which actually is the short form for Cappuccino. Five minutes later, she came over, lowering her body to carefully place my coffee on the table. In order not to muddle the overflowing milk foam of my coffee, she had to be very careful, like a tightrope walker. I took a sip of coffee, and tears filled my eyes.
Why does it seem like this city only needs coffee shops during the day? Don’t we need more comfort at night?
Whether it was a sunny day or a rainy day, a good day or a bad day, every time I pushed through the door, the lingering aroma of coffee comforted me. I knew that I could lie down here for a little bit, just a little bit. Besides the barista herself, there are two couches and a small dining table for two; the limited number of guests allowed creates a homely scene. Many people complain about espresso being the only type of coffee that is served, or that the barista only prepares desserts when she’s in a good mood, and that the radio programmes play in the shop are the types that I don’t usually listen to. Sometimes the days passed by as the radio played, which wasn’t bad, especially on those restless kinds of days.
Since the barista has a personal preference for Cappuccinos, I get to have the real thing here. She focuses on making every cup of coffee, and greets every returning guest. Unlike Lattes, Cappuccinos are quite unknown to some people; it has no eye-catching latte milk art, just a cup of subtle and delicate coffee with frothy milk. At the proper temperature, coffee and milk collide and blend together. With every sip, the thick and heavy foam touches my lips and gently warms my heart.
When it touches the lives of others, maybe it will lift them up, just like how it has lifted me.
“How’s the coffee today?” She asked, as usual.
“Really good.” And it is really good. Just that words always fail to express my gratitude.