“More grounds came out than beans went in,” he yawns as if everyone performs groggy pre-dawn miracles. “It’s magic,” I clap, fully aware the extra came from the batch I made yesterday. The coffee grinder always jams on me. I’ve learned to make do with less. But when he makes coffee, his smile coaxes bitter clumps free. He brews hope from what I called lost. Though I lift my mug, it's his espresso eyes I drink. A fresh pot of him is better than gold. I slide him the bigger portion of breakfast. He deserves more than he puts in.
Lily Luz (she/they) loves writing romance, fantasy, and horror. Lily is currently drafting a traumantasy novel featuring queer and neurodivergent leads. Bluesky & Substack @lilyluz Instagram: @lilyluzmotherofstories