Steam floated from the mug. His hands were cold, so he wrapped them fully around the ceramic mug. Dried dirt was still wedged under a few corners of his fingernails. With every needed sip of coffee a deep breath followed. It was as though the coffee was more than just dark bold flavor, but something with more meaning. As much as this man assumed he was alone, he was not. She, quietly out of sight, had been there for months.
© Karin Marie