What brings us together

Little white clouds are falling from the sky, coating the ground in a bright white blanket. The air is frigid and still. Flurries stick to the trees and birds cuddle into nests. The warm coffee machine gurgles and sputters out the last bit of coffee into the pot while I hold my mug, waiting. I grab the pot and pour. Steam rises up, fogging my glasses. I wait for them to clear. I pour milk into the brown. Swirls and clouds form, changing the dark to a warm cream. Using a small spoon, and I scoop 3 heaving piles of sugar into the mix, and stir. Its almost overflowing, but the pot is still over half full. Careful not to spill, I bring the mug to the living room where I sit, wrapping the blanket over my shoulders. My cat saunters over. I watch him lick his neck, then jump onto my lap. He curls up into a tight ball with his head tucked into his paws. I sip my coffee. One mug. One person. Looking out the window I remember playing in the snow. Making angels, speeding down a hill in a makeshift sled out cardboard.

I slurp my coffee, one sip at a time, reminiscing on old memories. When I finish I get up, the cat leaping off my lap in a frenzy. I find my boots, fluffy coat, and mittens. I pull my balaclava over my head and pull my hair towards the front so it stick out by my cheeks. I wrap a pink wooly scarf around my neck and let it fall over my shoulders. Outside, I build a snowman. I give him twig arms, and use fallen acorns, buried under the snow, to give him eyes and a half grin. I take off my scarf, and give it to him. I step back to admire my work. Then I see a shadow peer over me. Someone is behind me.

"I love it!" A deep, warm voice says. There's a man there, and he's not made of snow. I smile and mutter a thanks, slightly startled.

"I'm Tommy." He reaches out his hand and I take it.

"Beth." I say. Something in my stomach feels different. Like a cat making soft biscuits with its paws. For a moment we just stare. His hair is tucked away under a blue toboggin. His grey sweatpants are tucked into his dirty boots. The sun is glistening on his eyes and I see they are a glowing brown, like a tigers eye crystal.

I help him build his own snowman. He give it his toboggin and I see his unruly brown hair, going every which way. We play like two little kids, throwing snowballs at each other, and racing down hills on our butts. We make new memories.

The winter sun has already begun to set. We sit on nearby bench and talk. He tells me he is a fireman. He has a girl cat. He loves to watch films, and play board games, but only when he has had a few drinks. We laugh at that. I tell him I'm a chemist. I have a boy cat. I also love films, and don't enjoy board games even when I'm drinking. I tell him I love flowers, and he agrees.

"Do you like coffee?" He asks.

The sun is beaming its giving a warm vibrant blanket over the earth. The air is hot and sticky. Bugs bang on the glass, trying to get in. The grass burns and shrivels under the glare of the sun. The trees are stiff and dry. I stand by the coffee pot and watch the liquid sputter and spit, until the pot is full. I grab two mugs and pour, the steam covering my glasses. I giggle. I pour milk into both mugs, and 3 sugars into one, 5 in the other. The pot has almost no coffee left now. I bring both to the couch and sit. My cat is spread by the window, sunbathing. His cat curls up next to me. Tommy grabs the mug with 5 sugars, and kisses me.

"I love you sweet Beth." He whispers in my ear.

"I love you too." I smile and blush. Even still I feel the tug of cats paws in my stomach. How lucky it feels to be in love. In the spring, we made vows to spend the rest of our lives together. I wore a beautiful dress, so white it could be snow. There was a great party, and loud laughter from all of our friends and family. We made memories of only joy and love. We talked about our future, and kids we planned to raise. We made love and began our lives together. He is my everything. How lucky I am to make two of everything. How lucky that I have two cats. How lucky I am to be one of two. Two mugs. Two people to share them.

Summer was hot and dry. Orange hell roared against the land and the trees, and everything in sight. It ate up everything in its path, gripping life and taking it with it. Fires got the best of the trees, the land. It got the best of everything. Now orange and red leaves are falling from the trees still standing, covering the ash ridden ground with color. The air is frigid, and there's a stiff breeze whistling tunes of fatigue. I stand in front of the yelping coffee pot, waiting for the last drip. I pour the bitter liquid into one mug, the pot still appearing full. I add milk and 3 sugars. An array of white and brown shapes form. I shove the spoon in and the shapes abruptly turn into one until its just a color. I sit on the couch with only his cat perched next to me, making biscuits on the cushions. She is purring softly, with her eyes almost closed. I wrap my blanket around my shoulders. In my stomach I feel only a deep, empty pit. My cat is sitting by the door, waiting. He looks back at me as I sip my coffee, with what appears to be a frown from his little lips. I sit by myself. The fires got the best of my everything. One mug. One person.