Sublimation

Placing the warm cup on my desk, I sit back exhaling, deeply.  I’ve made another dark elixir of coffee.  A daily vise so steeped in a history of extortion, it’s hard to believe such tastes and pleasures can be produced by the innocuous dark liquid.  It's a simple fair created from independently roasted beans.  The aroma is slowly filling my office, the anticipation of the first sip, is lowering me into a reverie.  I sit savouring the moment.  

I watch wisps of steam slowly rise from the surface of the liquid.  Like a gossamer veil being toyed across the top the liquid by unseen entities.  A fairy’s gown, constantly changing, morphing in shape over the surface of the liquid.  The universe is taking back some of the energy I used to make the coffee.  I remain motionless, not wanting to disrupt the exchange in the atmosphere at the top of my cup.  Invisible turbulent interference is ever present, creating a shape-shifting shroud that is as transient as thought, and just as delicate.

I realise the steam has stopped.  The balance of energy has been restored.  The entities have moved on.  I can enjoy my coffee guilt free, imbibing the complex subtly fruity mix, enabling the world to continue without me for just a few more minutes.