Cold Comfort

Luckily I was out of coffee this morning, and even more luckily a cold, steady rain was falling, because I had the pleasure of going uptown and getting coffee someone else made for me. It's about three blocks, and the whole chilly way I looked forward to the freshly brewed yumminess of it and wondered if the little gourmet-to-go place called Talula's Table that I was heading for had brought out today's fresh-baked baguettes yet.

And they had. So I picked one out of the bin, still with a trace of warmth from the oven, and asked for a large cup of coffee. Got my paper cup, pressed the lever to send the coffee foaming into it, with steam rising merrily about. And then I walked home through the chilly rain, with a fresh-baked baguette tucked protectively inside my raincoat, and the tall cup of coffee sending warmth into my hand, up my arm, and through my chest to my heart as I walked home under my umbrella through the rain-slicked streets.