Bourbon and Coffee, Like the Hands of a Lover
It’s been a long day, I’m tired and tired of the world screaming around me. I go to bed at my usual time, snuggle with my blanket for twenty minutes not wanting to take my usual sleep pill. That tiny little sin, it feels like a sin sometimes, taboo I suppose, that little pill that gives me the rest I need. I denied myself the option for years, but without it, my brain never stops and I never sleep. I’m lying here in bed, wanting to refuse myself that luxury and the craving hits me. I want bourbon and coffee. Bourbon and coffee, what a night-time combination, I’d surely get no sleep with that.
I roll over and reach for my meds and think to myself, it must be morning for me in an alternate universe, a Monday morning. Oh how I’d love a bourbon and coffee right now, the heavenly taste of coffee and the strength of the bourbon. The sweetness of the coffee relaxing the tension in me, the strength of the bourbon heating me, burning like desire for a lover. Spreading from top to bottom like the hands of a lover as they explore my body. Yes, I must believe that it is Monday morning in that alternate universe, the craving for coffee, for bourbon, for the hands of a man, my lover. Definitely Monday.