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My favorite drink? Easy. Black coffee.

It’s the only drink I’ve had consistently for most of my life. No cream. No sugar. No adjustments.

Just heat and grit in a chipped enamel mug.

I’ve changed cities. Jobs. Beliefs.
People have come and gone.
Machines have been replaced.
Hard drives have crashed.

But coffee has been constant.

That grinder in the corner? That’s work.
The scattered beans? Preparation.
The steam rising? Time moving whether you’re ready or not.

Black coffee doesn’t try to comfort you. It clears your head. It demands you meet the day as it is.

That’s why it’s my favorite.

Not because it’s trendy.
Not because it’s sophisticated.

Because it’s steady.