I Had a Cup of Coffee

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The goods were left in an unmarked bag next to the garbage can, just like my demands had expressed. The jar of pennies I'd left as payment? Gone. I glanced to my left and then to my right. The alley was empty and silent. I scooped up the sack before I could lose my nerve and ran like a madman back to my car. I let the tires screech as I pulled away from the curb and then I sighed with relief. Soon I would have my fix. I tapped my fingers anxiously against the steering wheel, beating out an aimless tune. I had to fight the urge to flatten the pedal to the floor. Hurry, hurry! I urged the traffic. Why was everyone so slow today? My eyes glanced at the sack on the seat next to me, drawn to the contents hiding inside. I wouldn't last much longer without it. I brushed past the husband with a snarl, clutching the bag to my chest like a protective mama bear. "Looks like SOMEONE didn't get her fix this morning..." he mumbled. Those would normally be fighting words but I didn't have time to throw down the gauntlet. The craving was too great and I was running out of time. I shot a few daggers from my eyes and pushed past him to the kitchen. The tools were all ready. All I had to do was prep the stuff. I yanked out the grinder and set it to work. The puff of caffeine drifted to my nostrils and I felt myself begin to relax. Soon. Soon! The dark brew dripped too slowly. I found myself pacing in front of the machine, cup in hand, waiting for that instant, that glorious moment, when the carafe would be filled to the top. The liquid splashed into my cup like a fountain of life. It was the elixir of youth. Love and hope and peace all within one vessel. With one sip, my sanity would be restored. My husband would be free to speak without fear for his life. My children would be safe to say my name without repercussions. I brought the mug to my lips. And the doorbell rang. My life, my love, my very sanity, was set to rest on the counter top. I reached for the doorknob. And there he was. An officer of the law. Holding... ...a jar of pennies. "Excuse me, Ma'am," he drawled. "But we traced these back to you." I flinched. I had forgotten to launder the pennies! I glanced longingly at the cup on the counter. The officer followed my eyes, and smiled. "We can make this all go away, Ma'am..." He gestured towards the carafe and smiled. I took the hint. And the pennies. Now I roam the street with my freshly washed pocket change, waiting for the right dealer. Because what is life without the good stuff? What is life without...a cup of coffee? This story is dedicated to JJ.