Percolated Morning

It was all perfect. He wasn't sure where he was, when it was, or why he was there - but it felt so right. The air was crisps, frothy - tickling his lungs with each breath. He was lying down on his back - the ground below him soft as a bed of feathers - encasing his shoulders and supporting his back. His nose was pleased to find the scents of pomegranate, black orchid, lotus blossoms, and cream lingering all around him. It smelled clean. Pure. It brought a smile to his face. It was a combination of scents he knew well - lightening his heart with every inhale, purging his soul of haze with every exhale. It felt like home.

Looking around, he couldn't see anything. It all had a opaque look to it - like he was staring at the sun early in the morning through lacy blinds. Everything glowed - outlined in bright white - warm and inviting. His core felt warm from the light that was radiating all around him. He could hear his heartbeat, feel his chest rise and fall, his blood circulating, but he felt like he didn't have full control - as if his soul had wandered outside its confines, lost amongst this angelic place - free to roam, forgetting his body as it laid there. He knew he could move, flex his muscles - but he didn't want to.

 It wasn't scary. No. It was the the exact opposite. He felt free.

He seemed to drift for some time - lost amongst the lingering aromas, bathed in the falling light, floating along. He only decided to move when he realized he wanted to spend this moment with her. His hand reached out, searching for her's, but found nothing - just an empty space, warm from where her hand must have been before. Where had she gone? Was she here? They had to share this. Reeling his soul back into his body, he sat up.

And suddenly he was falling. Down - further and further - clouds silently passing by, barely giving him any notice as he continued his plummet. He could feel the smells growing fainter and fainter, drifting further away from his nose - the haze began to creep back into his head, encasing his mind, shrouding his thoughts. His eyes grew tired, wanting to close themselves - block out the world that was whizzing by. He felt aggitated. Grumpy. He felt alone. He missed her.

That was his last thought before he hit the ground and everything stopped.

He sat up, looking around, confused. He was in bed, covered in sweat, not shattered in the bottom of a crater in the middle of some field. His joints hurt and there was a noise between his ears - like radio static that had been turned down. Looking to his left, his bed was empty. She wasn't there. But there was the aroma of coffee seeping in through the cracked door.

When he stumbled into the kitchen, he found the coffee pot standing proudly over a flame, ready to serve its purpose. "How?" He wondered.

That's when he saw the note sitting on the counter,

"I'll take two sugars and a splash of milk :)"

It finally registered that the noise in the back of his head was the shower. He let out a sigh and smiled.

She didn't just exist in his head.