Turning back to his coffee, Sam resolved to make this year the year of Taste. he could almost taste the coffee now, almost. The sweet aroma he inhaled would have to satisfy him until he could make an appointment with Dr. Russell.
“Once I can taste the food, I’ll learn to cook the food.,” Sam grinned as he planned the year ahead. Next Thanksgiving would be at his house. He would cook the whole meal, delectable delights he would savor each taste test. No longer would family gatherings be torture.
“This is my year!” Sam resolved as he headed home.
Sam entered the coffee shop full of shopping warriors on the Saturday afternoon after Thanksgiving fueling up for a day’s worth of sale busting and packing wrapping. Christmas carols faintly fluttered in and out over the chattering of the noise and clanging of cups by the baristas. The sweet aroma of caramel and bitterness of expresso overpowered the tiny shop.
This is what made the coffee shop Sam’s favorite place. Even though he couldn’t tase the grade black coffee he ordered nor the pumpkin scone, the aroma of the coffee and pastries overpowered his sense of smell in the tiny shop. For someone who could not taste the bitterness of his coffee nor the sweetness of the his scone, the fragrance of the coffee shop was heaven.
Every Saturday morning, Sam came to the coffee shop and ordered a coffee and a scone. It was his weekly ritual. One he desperately needed after another depressing Thanksgiving. Sam savored the perfume of his coffee as he watched the shoppers rush in and out. How he envied their ability to taste thier morning treats. How he pitied them for not taking the time to appreciate the gift they had.