a cup of espresso

shared by Mili Mittal, business school friend

She lived above the furniture shop on lombard st. up four sodding steps of stairs. I would drag my heavy rollaway up, up, up; pausing for a beat when i reached her door, ever so slightly embarrassed to show up huffing and puffing. in that moment, as i appreciated the abundance of elevators in D.C., i wondered what stunning outfit she'd have on. then she'd open the door with her warm smile, arms and fingers extended as far as they could reach in full-on hug mode, and suddenly, having flown all the way across the country, i felt i had come home.

Sun used to flood into Anu's apartment. she rose early (earlier than me, at least) and she'd yell 'do you want an espresso?' from the kitchen as i groggily made my way out of bed to brush my teeth. when i came out, she'd hand me a gorgeous cup. gorgeous in every way: the cup, with its intricate and colorful pattern, the matching saucer and the espresso itself. she insisted that the only way to drink it was with full fat cream — a bit of indulgence, decadence. that cup represented Anu and i never knew it until now: the elegant and bright pattern on the cup and saucer, the femininity of its shape, coupled with the deep, bold coffee and a splash of cool, thick cream. she was there, in all her glory — handing me a cup of her love. And she brewed, by far, the strongest cup.