If we were having coffee, it would be from a moka pot with fresh cardamom and some cognac. I would pretend to ask how much cognac you wanted while pouring the amount that worked best with the flavor of the beans.
If we were having coffee, I would say that the move is coming faster than I thought. In a few months, I’ll be leaving Oregon for Georgia to start a new program at Emory. I would absently say that maybe I should change all my bios, but I’m not sure how to put it. And we would both know that that’s just a way to avoid the real preparation that needs to happen.
If we were having coffee, as the cognac kicks in, I would say how I’m worried about my vocation. I feel more confirmed that I should be an educator, that through deciding whether to continue with philosophy or business, that literature is my home. But I worry about the integrity of entering this system. How will it change me? I would say how I subbed in a study hall, seeing all these kids with different learning needs being forced to act as introverts who express themselves best verbally.
If we were having coffee, I would say that we should finish up with cigars. We could go outside on the back deck, even in the heat. The bonsai will keep us company. We could talk about how he’s (yes, we’re anthropomorphizing today) doing better. I had thought he was dead and was too afraid to cut a branch to check. I would say how I thought I was keeping the corpse of a tree on the porch because I was too afraid to admit it by throwing it out. But now he’s blooming, and the leaves seem larger than last year, as though he’s trying to make up for lost time.