The sound of beans getting ground, the steam that spills up as coffee pours out of the pot.
The dark flow of liquid with a babble of bubbles bursting on the surface, and the swirl within as you tumble just a couple drops of milk, a galaxy of dairy exploding beneath the surface and cascading along the sides of the mug.
And then there’s the aroma of the fresh brew, extending throughout your house, or apartment, or cafe, like the wagging fingers of a lover coaxing you closer.
The burning of the flavor itches at your nostrils, begging to be smelled, tempting you to taste.
A light exhale on the coffee’s surface, enough to cool a mouthful, maybe less.
The first sip, through pursed lips, and the warm fire cascading down your mouth, throat, and through your soul.