Greetings dear friends coffee lovers, this is my participation in the #SPILLTHEBEANS CONTEST 10 for which I want to take the opportunity to invite friends @universodaniel

Coffee, Stories, and Me

  The smell of coffee fuels my inspiration to write this story, again I am immersed in an imaginary world where my characters come to life. At the same time, I continue silent, just watching the events that my head generates vividly as a movie, allowing me to enter this space of ink and letters, sitting on the bench of a small square in an old town in the far west.

  The night was getting deeper and deeper, the loneliness overwhelmed the environment generating a deafening silence, there a whistling wind made its way through the grasslands, and in the distance, you hear the gallop of a gloomy horse that advances in a hurry leaving a trail of fire in his gait, It is ridden by a pale, cadaverous-looking rider, which shows a macabre smile as he spreads horror through this godforsaken village, where its inhabitants have succumbed to the greed of the gold rush.

  With a long wooden scale, the horseman strikes the ground three times, invoking the infernal powers he was charged with, to collect the souls of this city of sin and lust. A few seconds passed before the dry dust of the ground began to rise, driven by a hot breeze that whirled, attracting the ghosts hidden in all the slopes of the decadent town of cramped constructions, they rocked between screams, cries, and terrifying screams, while they were pulled by the invisible chains of their sorrows, to the bony hands of the specter that led them towards their condemnation until disappearing in a dense fog that manifested itself for no apparent reason.

  With my hands trembling because of what I had seen, I continued drinking my cup of coffee, its delicious flavor of a fine, high-quality bean, roasted in an artisanal way, touched every sensitive point of my palate, intoxicating me with a sweet and delicious aroma, bringing to the memory memories that I thought I had already forgotten, probably from another life, another time or perhaps another story.

A rushing river passed under my feet, and the cold water numbed my limbs. At the same time, I walked on a bed of rough and slimy stones in a spectacular natural environment, full of flowering cherry trees of bright colors, which placed me in an imaginary watercolor in the times of Imperial Japan, that I know, by the beautiful women dressed in traditional clothes and white make-up on their porcelain faces, who at first smiled inwardly trying to ignore my presence, but then who fled in panic when they saw a strange man walking through their village, with a cup of coffee in his hand in unfamiliar attire.

I also got scared, I confess, so I left and got away from there before their samurai escorts showed up, as I understand, these gentlemen would not be very kind to strangers, in my desperate flight I stumbled on the road and fell to the ground and remained unconscious for who knows how many hours, suddenly the slapping of a slap on my face, brought me to reality surprisingly, It was my wife who was standing in front of me with an angry face, complaining that once again I stayed up all night writing stories for my hive publications, drinking coffee unconsciously without realizing the passing of the hours in the early morning without going to sleep, but what made her so angry was that I drank all the coffee and did not even leave her a cup to accompany her breakfast, something that tortures me throughout the day, I assure you, dear friends.

Thank you for reading

This is an Original Story written by @susurrodelmisterio for Hive.

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