Reflections over Coffee

Reality was far from my sight as I focused on the last autumn leaf clinging to its branch. The wind stirred a bit, relieving the foliage from its home, sending it gliding down to the ground with others of his kind. There was no way to prevent this downfall, and it was a simple reminder of how uncontrollable life is. I sat pensively at my kitchen table, losing track of how many times my spoon made its journey from the sugar canister to my coffee mug. The creamer ran endless circles around the fill line, waltzing with the coffee to blend into a delicate shade of hazel, never to be parted again. I longed to be as lucky.
My head felt heavy with the memories of my youth. My cat lingered beneath my ankles, her stripes as faded as my hope for his return. The clock struck five, echoing throughout the house as I hesitated to remove myself from my chair. My arthritic bones creaked as I rummaged through the fridge to gather his favorite treats together. Bread and marmalade huddled inside my basket as I made my way next door, hoping to myself that the nostalgic food of our childhood would rejuvenate the memories that Alzheimer’s had rudely claimed so soon.