I love it black, no sugar, no milk

I love dark coffee, no sugar, no milk. I like it hot in the early morning, sipping it slowly on the terrace while the others are still sleeping. I love its fare taste, fresh, hot, masculine. The contrast between its warmth and powerful flavor and the cold outside. Just me, my thoughts and my moment of silence.



I like it in my grey cup, warming my fingers, tickling my nose. It goes perfectly with a misty morning, with a summer sunrise, with a newspaper, a good book or a cigarette. It inspires me to write in front of my computer while I can only hear my clicks, when the entire house is asleep, when the city is still yawning.

Reading throughout the Internet I saw there’s quite a philosophy on that matter.
There are people like me (“coffee snobs”) who discovered the unique feeling of a good dark coffee. It’s good to know you’re not alone in those few moments in the morning and that on the other side of the world there is at least one person who does the same, who feels the same.

Is it to masculine for a woman to think like that? I associate this morning ritual with the smell of a man’s cheek. A man that wakes up in the morning shaves himself, uses aftershave and smokes a cigarette while drinking its coffee. All those flavors are amazing. It’s like a perfect black and white picture that in its immobility hides so many stories.

Do you have a morning coffee story to tell?