a thought

"You're nice," he said. "You're like the smell of coffee, but not the taste."

I thought about that as I stood on the rainy beach, holding a cup of hotel-brewed hot-chocolified half-strength coffee. The weather was grey and cold, but the cup was warm through its little cardboard sleeve. It made me happy.

And I thought that that's one of the nicest things anyone has said to me in a while.