Cup of Joe

I'm standing alone at the local coffee shop where some kids I went to school with like to get together. I'm standing here, alone, with a cup of coffee. It's black, nothing has tainted its surface and nothing is invading its scent nor taste. I can see coffee grounds at the very bottom if I tilt the cup just the right way even. I look around and see the people inside laughing and clapping to the music being played, It's a very nice simple song, plain and direct like the coffee. I begin to wonder, as my mind often does, about the little things. The most important thought however is, "should I take a sip?" I slowly bring the cup towards my lips and smell the fragrant beans calling me. Then I remember that I don't really like coffee. It's not even my cup.