“Why not you use my coffee spoon?” My father’s line sounded like a sweet surprising melody to my ears. I never heard it coming from his mouth before.
A copper spoon. A long slim brassy spoon. It looks like it was made for a perfect coffee spoon. It is sturdy and stirs well, easily reaching to the bottom of any coffee glass/mug. My father is quite possessive about it. He never lets anybody use it, even though I – the only child in the family who shares his love for coffee – secretly used the spoon without his knowing
several too many times. Continue reading “A story in a copper spoon”