Sipping From The Siren: Hot Coffee and Trepid Thoughts

As steaming smoke snakes and rises, I see trepidation as wars escalate, bodies fall and missiles flash, it’s the 4th of July in reverse, ports closed, prices soar, a hurricane roars, overseas our money we pour

The smell of my coffee delights me, a shot of adrenaline stirring sleepy eyes open, but soon I won’t be able to afford even this luxury anymore

The store provided sleeve slips and the cup of Medusas pleasure burns my skin, I grimace, but in my mind plays the image of citizens getting hit with drones and ballistics

Sirens blare, I jump in fear, the tv maybe? Or somewhere off in the distance.

Hot bitters leave my tongue torched and my taste buds tickled, heart racing, I take another taste embracing the burn until my mouth goes numb, with each sip I hope my fear of tomorrow will be undone.