Roots
She had one coffee cup, small and white. She also had a tiny coffee pot and an air-sealed container for the coffee. It was supposed to be drunk in company, shiny butter cookies baked in twists, in the middle of the table. It was supposed to be drunk in small sips, punctuated by gossip. She drank it alone, daily, at four. Sometimes she would listen to music, others she would open the backgammon...