coffee [Theme] Page 5

create a special October mood

The next time you drink black coffee, you will feel its bitterness and sob, but you will never refuse it, because even bitterness is better than nothing.

Imagine a purulent tumor in the body of a hippopotamus, while I calmly finish my fragrant coffee ...

Yes, I drink too much coffee and it certainly makes my insomnia worse. However, I am sure that it is coffee that clears the brain the best - at least for a while.

The morning smells of the magic of life... and let the whole world wait now. I will add a handful of happiness as the coffee beans gradually turn into ground coffee in the coffee maker and soon the smell of espresso will be heard. I'll add some love while the cold milk is frothing in the cappuccinatore. And add some luck as the espresso and milk foam in the coffee cup combine into a cappuccino. And now the tart, insinuating aroma of coffee pleases with its notes of velvet mystery and depth of flight. And I just smile. Sincerely and warmly, because the soul becomes incredibly good.

Autumn. The house is quiet. I knit cosiness with the aroma of velvet coffee, with the smell of apple pie and cinnamon, with a monochrome palette of transparent autumn watercolors. Comfort from a favorite sweater the color of silver rains, gently caressing the body, and knitted vanilla-colored socks, comfort from combed thoughts, laid out in the head like books on a shelf, from branches with leaves, drenched in crimson gold and placed in a vase. There is a terry silence around, in which the soul is felt even more strongly, because you are listening to something very important, to yourself. Wise autumn time. He walks on tiptoe so as not to frighten away our timid desires and dreams with his steps. Listen and lightly touch the very, very bottom of her pond-heart, covered with old leaves. Smile quietly at this silence and just dream. Warm up, holding a mug with your forgotten dreams in your cold hands.

Comfort at your fingertips. Light candles everywhere, without waiting for the day to close its tired eyes. When a house is filled with amazing aromas, it becomes a little special. Even just bake an ordinary pumpkin in the oven, and then add a pinch of spices to it, brew everything in milk, pour in a cup of espresso and get an autumn potion called Spice Pumpkin Latte, and already in the house there is a special autumn atmosphere. I love this season. A season that smells like home, coffee... and love.

Telegram (03.10.2022).

May your day be warm and gentle, quivering and cozy. Let the sun into it, endow it with a smile - and the autumn wind will certainly bring you such a simple, such a wonderful happiness.

He or it, I don't care about the rules at all. I just want coffee. Coffee is pure desire, ritual, symbol and addiction. I like to watch how the oily liquid pours into the cup, how the dark fills the white. I drink black coffee. The first sip burns with bitterness. The smell is precise, pointy. In a second, I feel how bitterness breaks up into dozens of notes: sweetness, sourness, woody and floral shades that fill every cell of the body with pleasure and penetrate into the very soul.

Autumn-alluring morning... The new day smiles with its unique, radiant smile. I write magical letters on colored paper, weave delicate floral dreams, blueberry and berry fragments of dreams, airy caramel memories into ink letters. I create my own beautiful fairy tale and send it with gratitude to the Universe for execution. And Damien Rice sounds around the house, the smell of apples and freshly brewed morning coffee spreads.

Of course, one can sit in a Parisian cafe on the street, drinking coffee from small cups: but I can't understand why this is more stylish than sitting indoors, drinking whiskey from a large glass?

Autumn is about hot coffee, slightly burning with either temperature or the bitterness of roasting, about milky fogs in the early morning and the smell of smoke from chimneys, about sunlight, like melted honey, about long walks and cozy evenings with yellowed pages of old books, about the whistle of a boiling, polished, pot-bellied teapot and steam rising from cups of fragrant herbal tea, about days filled with the smell of coffee beans and cinnamon, about Akhmatova’s quatrains aloud, about jazz compositions that returned to the playlist, about spicy autumn perfume, with a smoky aroma of cherry bones, about a bouquet of maple leaves and picnics with grapes, buns and delicate goat cheese, about the rain outside the window of a warm house, in which the feet are buried in the soft pile of the carpet, and the palms are warmed by a cup of cocoa with almond crumbs. Autumn is about what fills your heart with woolen autumn comfort.

I'm glad you're here.