Coffee Addict

Prompt: Write a poem or story about giving up coffee.


Sarah was applying her make-up in the master bathroom when her husband, Roger, arrived home from work. She was irritable, and the fact he was late – combined with having to go to a stupid dinner with his parents – definitely wasn’t helping matters. So, when he sailed into their bedroom, chipper as ever and flinging his clothes around haphazardly, it was just about more than she could take.

“Can’t you at least try to hit the hamper?” she demanded, peeking her head around the door jam.

Roger nodded. “I could, but what’s the point?”

“What’s the point?! The point is you aren’t the one who has to pick the clothes up everyday. The point is you never appreciate anything I do. You run through life with a smile on your face and pay no attention to what is going on around you!” she roared.

Sarah stalked out of the bathroom, her mascara in one hand, using it to punctuate her words as she continued to vent. “The point is we have to go see your parents, you’re late – like always – and I am once again the bad guy, because we both know they hate me already. I can’t believe you!”

Roger frowned and backed up a few steps. “Alright,” he said, raising his hands in a defensive position. “I’ll call them and tell them it’s all my fault.”

“Ugh, forget it. Just get ready so we can go,” she huffed, then turned back to the bathroom.

Sarah noted Roger putting his clothes in the hamper and shook her head. She didn’t really know why she had yelled at him over something so silly. It was true he always left his things lying about, but truth be told it never bothered her much. Until now, and it didn’t help at all that she had no real idea why.

“So, did you go see the doctor today?” Roger asked, his voice so quiet it barely carried through the doorway.

Sarah sighed. “Yes, I did. He told me I have to stop drinking coffee.”

“What? What does drinking coffee have to do with anything?”

“Apparently, he believes I am having nightmares because I drink too much coffee; the caffeine causing an overactive imagination, he said.” Sarah told him, keeping her voice as mild as possible.

“Oh, makes sense, I guess."

She shrugged, even though she knew he couldn’t see the motion. “It doesn’t matter though; I can easily give up coffee.”

“Hmmm, hmmm.”

His tone infuriated her right then and there. “What?” she demanded, “you don’t think I can do it?”

Roger’s eyes grew round and he shook his head. “I-, I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to, the tone of your voice said it for you.”

“I thought we talked about that, my tone of voice doesn’t mean anything. I was surprised is all,” he explained as he came to stand behind her, facing the mirror.

“Whatever, all I know is he said I have to quit drinking coffee.”

“How do you feel about that? You just quit smoking, do you think it's a good idea to add to that?” he ventured cautiously.

Sarah snorted. "I have to quit, so I’ll quit.”

“Do you have a time frame or anything? Is it just cold turkey?”

Sarah glared at the mirror. “It’s not like cigarettes, Roger. I don’t think I need to plan it out or anything.” She shot him a smug look. “I’ve already quit - haven’t had a cup since ten o’clock this morning.”

He nodded and busied himself with brushing his teeth.

Sarah bristled. “You don’t believe me? Is that it?”

Roger looked up at her through the mirror. “Oh, I believe you alright. I knew something drastic must have happened to make you act so crazy.”

That was it, the end of the line. “Crazy? Crazy?! I’ll show you crazy Roger Hallingsworth, and don’t you think I won’t!” she snarled, throwing her lipstick at the mirror, directly where his face was reflected.

“Honey, wait,” he said as he followed her into the bedroom. “I said that wrong, I meant aggravated, you seem angry. Here, let me give you a massage, it's the least I can do.”

Sarah pushed his hands away from her as though they would give her a disease. “The last thing I want from you is a massage!”

"Okay, then. I'll call and tell my parents we can't come and we'll go for a walk on the beach, just you and me. Sound good?"

"Why, so your parents can hate me even more? I can hear your mother now, 'That woman doesn't even let us see him anymore, there's always an excuse of some sort'. No, we are going and that's that."

Sarah moved around the bedroom in a flurry of useless activity, completely unsure as to what she was doing or why but she knew if she sat still she would completely explode. Just the sight of her husband, sitting on the edge of the bed - not getting ready -  was causing her serious stress. Then, to add to it, he got up and left the room without even a backward glance.

"Are you sure we should go? Don't you think your mood might just be a little too...uh, well, my mother isn't the nicest woman, you know, are you sure you can handle her?" he asked as he reappeared in the doorway.

"I can handle it," she said through clenched teeth.

"Come here," he soothed. "I'll help you feel better before we go."

Sarah threw her hands in the air. "Roger, we're already late! Besides, I don't want-" her eyes grew round as she realized he was holding a cup of coffee, the aroma already floating across the room, tantalizing and fresh. "That's not even nice."

Roger's mouth twitched slightly. "One thing at a time, love. First cigarettes, then we'll work on the coffee. Deal?"

Sarah nodded and reached for the mug. "You're right, one thing at a time."

Word Count: 989