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The first dance between spring and winter orchestrates an odd mood in the air. Extended daylight and fair weather tease everyone's spirits in short bursts until nature's temper forces their surrender. The body never knows what to expect. Warm sunlight might melt the snow one day, then give way to cold rain and a few more blizzards over the next two weeks.
Today's dark, cloudy sky and below freezing temperature announced the need for a winter jacket, yet again. I like to work from home in such dangerous conditions, but the last five days spent locked inside writing speeches for this new client had festered an awful cabin fever.
The spark ran dry. Time wasted being in someone else's head will suck every ounce of creative juice out of you and start messing with your mind if left unchecked. I had to get out, short of hallucinations and in-depth conversations with the three Venus flytraps bordering my office window.
They despise the weather too, as it turns out.
Coffee shops will attract humans like flies in winter. Nothing fills the void left by the cold better than sipping high-profit heated caffeine drinks in a crowded space. I claim to be against such establishments and prefer to make my coffee at home, but a seat at the public watering hole does have some benefits even if I fail ever to produce anything substantial when writing there.
The people watching potential is too potent to ignore, especially come the cooler seasons when the place gets packed with all types of characters, including me. One hears talk about last night's debauchery just as much as the latest office gossip or even better, sit next to two people on a date. Coffee acts as a discussion stimulant, and this strange energy can revive a flaccid creative flash in a heartbeat.
I walk into the jammed Starbucks near my apartment. The place bumps with people. Cups cling and clang over pressure steamers and muffled voices. A strong aroma of caffeinated magic beans fill in my nostrils to release an internal wave pleasure.
I order my usual large Americano with an extra shot of espresso and find a seat in the back corner with a decent view of the place. A slim, ponytailed fellow walks to the counter and berates one of the young baristas, right as I open up my notebook and pen.
"This soy latte tastes like expired almond milk! Yuck, and what the hell my name is Barry, not Harry, gosh can't you fools get anything right!?"
Perfect. Thank you, Harry.
I am ear deep in this argument, noting the seventeen-year-old student's confusion trying to make sense of the wannabe peace corp soldier's sermon amongst heavy machinery when a sweet note composed straight out of paradise pulls me out of my focus.
I nearly spill my coffee.
The goddess Venus had crafted this voice out of the universe's core herself, then polished each vibration into melodious diamonds to travel across time and space.
The music breaches my eardrums and stimulates my five senses in unison with surgical precision. Lights shine bright within my face, electricity fires down my spine into my limbs to raise every hair along the way. The trance kicks in, passion shivers, both arms weaken.
My mind imagines the voice wrapping her legs tight around my waist, pushed against a wall. Her scent is divine. My lips feel her skin's softness, delicately pressed onto her neck down to her navel one kiss at a time. She tastes fresh; her tongue caresses mine and triggers every cell in my body.
My body temperature rises to a near fever. The voice pushes me away then rips off my shirt, undoes my belt and pulls down my pants. I am vulnerable, naked. My hands shake, legs paralyzed. Passion fires ignite both eyes. Our souls fuse in an instant, as if they had already felt each other throughout the eons.
My heart pulses a new flow of strength. I take control of my senses and undress my partner. Our breaths accelerate in harmony. I hold her warm body. Time stops for a moment as we discover every inch of each other with our hands and mouths. Six quarts of blood rush to my loins from the sensorial excitement.
Our worlds collide in a set of hip strokes and pure bliss. She buries her face in my body, arms wrapped around almost choking me, then whispers in my ear, near climax. The voice echoes all over my bones and smashes the little control I had left.
We finish together, out of breath.
"Ya I'm just at the coffee shop now, what are you doing later? "
The coffee cup cling clang snaps me out of my reverie.
The woman with a beautiful voice sitting at the table next to mine is on the phone. Lust at first listen. Her smile, gorgeous. She was a colorful aura in the bleak of winter, warm like the summer rays that pierce the atmosphere and free us from the freeze.
You see, the voice is trickier to cover with makeup and fashion than exterior features. The many accents and pitches behind their melody ooze a unique, mysterious quality that captivates the mind in an instant. The beauty within echoes a symphony into the universe to express itself, a real masterpiece.
Love your voice.