Save for the tools of their routine, their desks were always clear. It was in the space between, created by their pedestals, that they kept those tools and would perform their ritual three times a day.
Always carefully, always in silence. Talk was reserved for after the tasting. Even the selection of coffee occurred in silence: a language of subtle gestures and nods formed the decision making and selection process.
Then, gently, they would weigh out the beans, transferring them slowly into a container that had been carefully selected for the roast during their initial period of experimentation. These would then be poured into a grinder as if precious pearls, just as the resulting powder was moved and poured as if gold dust, as if anything lost would equate to the loss of hundreds of pounds.
The brewing was the most baffling part, though, so much so it would bring the office to a standstill. A collective breath would be held as we watched them watching the pot; all of us wondering how they knew, when to the rest of us it seemed nothing had changed, that the coffee was ready. It was never quite the same amount of time, but they would always be just as pleased with the result.
As I wondered about them then, I wonder about them still. Do they still sit side by side and perform their ceremony together, or did they lose each other along the way and find others?
The former, I hope.
Always carefully, always in silence. Talk was reserved for after the tasting. Even the selection of coffee occurred in silence: a language of subtle gestures and nods formed the decision making and selection process.
Then, gently, they would weigh out the beans, transferring them slowly into a container that had been carefully selected for the roast during their initial period of experimentation. These would then be poured into a grinder as if precious pearls, just as the resulting powder was moved and poured as if gold dust, as if anything lost would equate to the loss of hundreds of pounds.
The brewing was the most baffling part, though, so much so it would bring the office to a standstill. A collective breath would be held as we watched them watching the pot; all of us wondering how they knew, when to the rest of us it seemed nothing had changed, that the coffee was ready. It was never quite the same amount of time, but they would always be just as pleased with the result.
As I wondered about them then, I wonder about them still. Do they still sit side by side and perform their ceremony together, or did they lose each other along the way and find others?
The former, I hope.
Written for Faber Academy's QuickFic from the following picture prompt:
