Habit

I don’t have many habits. My morning rituals hang on routine more than dependence.
But one thing I do have each day is coffee. Everything else waits until that first sip — rich, dark flavor with a swirl of oat milk, turning deep brown to caramel.

It’s hard to explain the scent as I cradle the mug close to my mouth–chocolate and berries, maybe.
Warm. A little earthy. Sweet.

I drink it slowly, letting the heat envelope me–the gentle brew, a familiar comfort.