And so, at
the end of every day; when the unforgiving sun made its bed in the blanket of
the horizon, his mother, his father, his brothers and his sisters would all
return from their toils on the land to a single cup of coffee awaiting each and
every exhausted hand; a flavour unto its own, prepared as a toast to the marriage
of the arduousness and amenity of their unique existences; the perfect coffee
with sugar, brewed as the sum of their every day and then; in every morn, as
the darkest hour turns to the faintest light when in the outstretch of night,
the sun birthed from nature’s womb with the birth of every sun, a coffee with
sugar would be waiting each and every one.
Extract: Coffee and Sugar ₢C. Sean McGee 2013
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