A small case for a third coffee

There is morning, and there is mid-morning, and they are not the same country. The first coffee is for waking. The second is for pretending you have plans. The third — the third is the border crossing.

It is the one you take slowly, on the step, with the light already turning honest. Nothing gets done during the third coffee, which is precisely the point of it.

We built the whole place around that hour, really. The villas, the shade, the long walk to the sand. All of it an excuse to sit a little longer than you meant to.