Last year Friend #1 died, so I ended up staying at Friend #2’s house. When I woke up she was already out of the house, so I started to walk to the coffee maker to make some coffee. At that moment Friend #3 called. I looked at the coffee maker for a moment, then thought, “It will wait a few moments,” so I turned around, picked up the phone, and found a quiet spot to sit down.
At one point I started talking about something and #3 said, “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I just woke up, so I kinda cleared my throat and started talking louder. We had a good, honest conversation, the kind you only have when it’s late at night and people are tired and maybe have a little liquid courage and speak from the heart, or in this case that raw time right after someone has died.
When I was watching a show just now with two dead guys talking to each other I remembered that conversation, and also remembered that I never did get that cup of coffee.
