How one waits for coffee

January 4, 2016

There is a precise way one sits when waiting for coffee, if one is certain about one’s life. One folds one’s hands, like so. One keeps one’s head tilted, like so. To deviate before the arrival of the mug (and one picks one’s diner based on the type of mug used, of course) would be to broadcast that one has lost control over the things most important, over the decisions that direct this outcome, that contingency, as one measures all the steps that carry one through a good and honest life.

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