Inkling 2025 - Flipbook - Page 6
while the coffee’s
still warm
by Braelyn Rickard
She sat by the window—the one she and
her father had once claimed as theirs in
quieter times, where they shared slow
mornings and bitter co昀昀ee, in the corner
of a café where the past now seemed to
linger. He had always loved co昀昀ee. It was
the one thing they had shared, something
simple, yet enduring, a quiet constant
between them. Now, the seat across
from her was empty, with only silence for
company.
It had been months since the last time
she was here. She stared through the
window as a storm unfolded outside. Her
eyes followed the path of two raindrops
locked in silent competition, racing down
the window. One reached the windowsill
without hesitation, as if it knew where
it was going—gone, at peace. The other
stopped halfway down the glass, held in
place, like someone left behind, unsure
how to keep going. In the distance, the
rhythmic hum of espresso machines
blended with the soft murmur of
conversation—families, friends, lovers—
while the rain tapped gently against the
windows in a steady, soothing rhythm.
Above it all, the faint strains of jazz
drifted through the air, perfectly pitched,
wrapping the room in warmth. The café
6 | INKLING 2025
felt like a place removed from time; quiet,
comforting, and familiar. Still, there was
an emptiness that resided in the café. Her
father’s absence.
In front of her, her co昀昀ee waited—still
warm, untouched. The background noise
faded as she stared into the cup, hesitant,
almost unsure whether she should drink
it. A memory of her father resurfaced on
one of their 昀椀nal visits to this very café a
few weeks before he passed. He had grown
weaker with each visit, and he knew their
time together was slipping away. During
one of his coughing 昀椀ts, which had become
more frequent, he brought up the future,
something she had refused to speak of.
“One day, when I’m not here—”
“Pa,” she interrupted softly. “Don’t talk like
that. You’re going to get better. You have
to.” The last words barely escaped her lips.
Her father was everything to her. She
admired him in ways she never could fully
explain. He had been there through her
happiest moments, and more importantly,
through her darkest and lowest. He was her
anchor in a world that often made her feel
lost. If he left, she knew her world would
fall to pieces and that she’d spend the rest
