Words of Coffee

       The doorbell rings and I get up to answer the door. I leave my blanket over the sofa, a cup of coffee over the table, a notebook that I carried everywhere lands half open besides the cup on the page that was coming to life. When I opened the door, the faces of an old man and a boy, apparently 8 years old, are waiting for me.

       -We're looking for simple words, but with great meaning, and people said that you could help us - Says the boy with a shine of hope and expectation in his eyes .

        I take a step back and invite them to enter.

       - Would you like something? Water, coffee?

       -Just your words, please - Says the old man this time.

       With a smile on my face by the simplicity of the request, I sit on the sofa and point out the seats right in front of me so that they sit as well.

       I take the notebook and let my words fly through the air, like music, towards the two. Toward anyone who wants to hear.