The awakening sun waves a friendly hello, and I turn off the kitchen light.
The outside enters through small and open space once covered with mortar and paint.
Sun’s powerful rays paint a fiery African continent atop the stove boiling with freshly ground coffee.
I pour the black magic into a small cup of milk. I embrace its warmth with both hands. I inhale. I exhale. I breathe in the moment that is mine for a fleeting moment.
To see and experience magic, we must first tear down the walls. Break down barriers. Extinguish the light we’ve grown accustomed to. The switch we rely on is used too often, and we forget the lightness of the dark. The gaiety of its stillness.
I savor the moment before taking a small sip. I release the cup. I let it rest on top of the sparkling counter top.
I bid adieu to magic before stepping into the day.