Cappuccino
Morning begins with scent. Freshly ground beans, a hint of cocoa, the dark warmth of roasting. The crema pours from the machine like a golden stream, promising comfort before the day has even opened its eyes.
The house is still asleep. I step into the ice bath, kissed awake by the cold. Chlorine lingers in the air. Water gurgles. Ice blocks crack as they melt—small detonations in the silence. Then I sink my head beneath the surface. My body settles. Quiet enters me, even as every sound of the water sharpens. In that stillness, I feel fully alive.
The shower follows. Cold again, but calming now. My favorite soap—Blue Amber and Cedar. Resinous. Warm. Earthy. The fragrance mingles with the clean morning air. Cool stone beneath my feet. Water, scent, sound—all folding together.
And finally, the cappuccino. The crown of the morning. The more slowly I drink, the richer it becomes. And with it, the day begins: clear, awake, full of promise.