Cheat
- Nov 18, 2019
- 2 min read
by Jenn Ashton
Today before I was fully awake, I had already cheated time.
Standing in the kitchen I held my coffee cup under the bit of the coffee maker where the coffee comes out. The pot was half full, but I didn’t want to wait, so with the handle of the glass coffee pot in one hand and the handle of my 2 cup mug in the other I carefully switched one for the other under the stream, but in the synaptic gap, coffee spilled down hissing on the element creating a thick hot steam that set off the fire alarm directly over my head.
Story of my life.
It was worth it, I thought, having cheated time in such a daring way. I am clumsy and every day that I can maneuver that glass carafe without smashing it is a triumph.
I wish it were so easy to slide in and out of the seasons of my life. Each one has ended and begun with a storm. That makes for a very long storm when they blend and overlap, and the bits lost that went hissing and splattering out of my life saw me in my mourning suit more often than not. Missed opportunities that I didn’t know I had until they were gone and my cup was not as full as it could have been.
Still, I have a cup and it has something in it and so I am content. And some days I even marvel at the design of it, the colour and its unique shape worn over time, the patterns made by my hands.
I’m impatient now only for my coffee, a good sentence and a peaceful death; the order of which has become unimportant.
Jenn Ashton is an indigenous writer in North Vancouver, British Columbia and is currently a TA in the Simon Fraser University’s Writers Studio Program. Her website is JenniferAshton.ca. She’s also a visual artist: JennAshtonArt.com
