The scent of the freshly ground coffee beans filled his nostrils. A smile stretched across Marcus’s face involuntarily. He loved that smell. Coffee was a pleasure enjoyed in multiple phases. The simple joy of making it could have been enough. He was so used to the process that it became almost Zen-like in the way he carried through the motions. Scooping the grounds into the filter, pouring the water, turning on the switch and then listening for the first sounds of brewing, it all became soothingly hypnotic. The second phase was the smell and anticipation. He could almost visualize the tendrils of coffee aroma as they wound snake-like from the pot to his nose. It beckoned him and teased him like the burlesque dancers of old. He waited patiently, savoring each moment that his morning beverage took as it turned from water and ground roasted beans into the robust nectar he loved.
When the brewing was finished, he poured the dark brown liquid into his favorite cup. The final phase was nearly complete. All that remained was to put the cup to his lips and let the warm liquid cascade across his tongue and down his throat.
Each day presented new surprises and challenges. Every day something unexpected waited for Marcus, but what he loved the most were the simple things in life: Sunshine through his kitchen window and a fresh cup of coffee to start his day. Life so quickly wished to whisk us along in its rapid currents and Marcus understood how important the little things really are. His wife was gone, he had long since retired and his bad hip prevented a great deal of movement. He spent his days tending to his garden and reading his books and that was enough. He’d climbed his mountains and sounded his barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world. Now he wished only for peaceful days before his long sleep. Marcus sipped his coffee. He was content.