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There wasn't much to think about that day, Nothing to talk about. Nothing extra special to listen to. It was just another one of 'them' days.
'Coffee shouldn't be interesting' Beth thought to herself, 'But it's aroma, the way the cream swirls deliciously, so fresh and eager, twisting and dancing around in it's circular enclosure, frantically running around in circles until it wears out. Realising the lengthily amount of time it has been in this enclosure, it then beckons to be swallowed up before it's body turns cold.'
Beth woke up the sleeping, stiff spoon from it's tissue duvet, gripping it's body, feeling it's harsh, icy surface send a tingle through her fingers. She dipped the head into the coffee, and began to stir.
Stir.
Stir.
Stirring up chaos between the two substances. 'Once in a while, a heartless body of no thought of feeling enters the tired coffee's life, causing life to go that little bit faster. But as we all know, it'll only be a fragment of time before it pulls away.' Beth ripped the spoon from the drink and smashed it down onto the table.
'Almost a reflection of life. That is something I find interesting.'
Clutch the cup, breathe in the bitterness.
Coffee.