I wrap my hands around the mug full of dark grounds, staring at the front door of the small coffee shop. I wonder if she'll come.
I wait for the faint ding that chimes when someone walks inside, with intentions of ordering a morning coffee. The smell of the dark roast fills me up with joy and tranquility.
But seeing her would be the ultimate way to put my mind at ease. She walks in and I know her order before she even speaks. A small black coffee to go.
As she takes the steaming cup in her hand I follow her, a firm grip on the knife that I will soon hold closely to her throat. She is so beautiful. She will be mine.
My cup stays abandoned back at the coffee shop, my morning coffee, awaits my return.