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COFFEE AND SUGAR

Strange Literary Fiction

This is the story of Joao, an uninspiring country boy who moves to a slum in the city with his drunken, violent, preacher father; The Bishop and falls for amiable prostitute named Charity.

Like life, the perfect drink should be bitter sweet and coffee is the resonance of existence in that; like the perfect coffee, life has many grains of bitter days; the type of days that might rot your stomach if they are all that you have. But every now and then, one has a few sweet moments that make the tough days easier to digest, meaning one can take the learned lesson from life; the good and the bad and then strengthen their resolve and return in the morn with an eager thirst for more.

All João ever wanted was to be of some use. All he ever wanted was to belong. And far away from the molesting lick of the sun, where his brothers and sisters toiled upon the dusted, arid earth, Joao will find himself, inside the sediment of a city, at the bottom of a ceramic cup.

And a minister, a chef, a preacher and a whore, they will all taste him on their lips, long after he is gone.

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Coffee and Sugar (2nd Edition) Author Note

The more The Bishop screamed, the more excited the group got and the more riled were their senses, the more depraved was their violence,

Coffee and Sugar ₢2013 C. Sean McGee

I have returned a part of a story to where it belonged. Though one would prefer to look only at the finest threads that garb one's attire, sometimes, as a writer, i must give in to honesty and show, in utmost delicacy, the sediment of degeneracy that is the closeted and caged carnal veractity of each and every one of us.

I hold no apoloigy for what i have written in this story. I hold lesser apology for how neatly and how poetic i give, this maniacal cancer unto you the reader.

I see through your fancy threads, at those pesky hairs poking through. But that does not inspire me to dull them with a lack of appreciation. I see fancy and merriment in the filth that you scrunch into the nethers of your pockets and that your scourge from the cracks of your teeth behind shielding hands.

I do not apologise if the beauty I have basted for you, might have your threads untied.

And so I return some things to where they belong.

Take Risk and Take Care,

C. Sean McGee