Just Write

“Regular, or decaf?” An important question almost every person faces daily. Do they try to break the caffeine addiction while they’re ahead, or do they resort themselves to the only thing they know can give them energy when they’re burned out? Sometimes regular was the correct choice. On a day when one might need to treat themselves, put a little jaunt in their step, a little excitement in their smile. Some days decaf seemed the more reasonable option, but at that point why even get coffee? For isn’t the only purpose to wake you up, get you through the day? Some might just enjoy the taste too much. However, at that point, shouldn’t one be worried if the only way they get through their day is through the help of a small brown liquid that tastes deliciously exquisite? Perhaps, perhaps. Perhaps the reasonings and nuances of coffee choice will forever remain a mystery. 

That was why the quiet man paused when the barista asked him the infamous question. He was silent, contemplating the day he had ahead of him. Finally, he responded, “Decaf, please.” 

He knew he was going to hate the day regardless. 

It wasn’t so much that the day was particularly dreadful for any specific reason, rather, the absence of any reason. It seemed the day was just one of many, something to be forgotten in the whirlwind of meaningless work days that provided no new stimulation, no new flames, no new great epics. It was simply another day. And that was why the man knew he would hate it. Just as he had hated every other day like it. The calendar days seemed the blend together, the only important marks in his history was the holidays, when perhaps he got a few days off, the weekends were sometimes a welcome change of pace, and that infamous one week per year for vacation. He wondered why no one ever told him about life being like this. He never knew how hard it would be to simply survive. 

He paid for his coffee, thanked the barista, and left. It was a fall day, a little crisp, a little fiery red making an appearance in the trees. He walked by the park, examining the beauty of the blended colors against the blue and white sky. The ducks in the pond, the old woman and her dog, the kid and his mother on the swings. He checked his watch. He still had time before work. That was one of his many downfalls, his irritable need to be extremely early all the time. He was never late. He looked at his decaf coffee and sighed. He decided to down the rest in the park. 

He walked through the paths for a little before he found a very nice spot by the pond, in a little cove of trees, dropping leaves in the slight breeze. The cold stone of the bench was old, and cracked. He sat down, and watched. Watched the ducks in the pond, the gentle sway of the trees, the kid on the swings laughing a ways away. He dreaded the day ahead as he took it all in. 

“Hello.” A voice, small and simple floated up to him. He started, glanced down and saw a small rabbit, white with a brown nose, its eyes black and piercing. 

“Oh,” the man said. “Hello. I didn’t notice you there.” 

The rabbit twitched its nose. “That’s alright. Most people don’t. I was just curious as to what you’re doing.” 

The man sighed. “Nothing very exciting, I’m afraid. Just another day. I’m waiting before I have to go to work.”

The rabbit tilted his head. “Work? That must be very exciting indeed.”

“Not so, unfortunately. I’d much rather sit here all day.” 

“Intriguing. I sit here most days, and not much happens. I would’ve imagined having a job to be more fun.” 

The man chuckled. “No, indeed. Fun is nowhere near the word job. Then again, fun isn’t near much of anything in my life. What do you do all day long?”

The rabbit looked quizzical, as if a rabbit could express curiosity in a simple facial expression. “Oh. I suppose I sit here. And I eat. I have to find my food. And then I sleep when I feel tired.” 

“Honestly, sounds more appealing than my day.”

The rabbit looked even more quizzical. “But don’t you like your life?”

The man shrugged. “It could be better. Had a rough last year, and that was hard. Still is. I haven’t dated anyone in ages, family issues, that sort of thing. Sometimes it seems like the world is just out to get me. Like nothing can ever be fair.” 

“What about your friends? Rabbits don’t have friends, but I’ve heard others do.”

The man sighed again. “Yes, I suppose, I have a few. I don’t see them very often anymore. Is it nice to have freedom? No responsibilities?”

The rabbit shrugged as well as a rabbit could. “I don’t really have anyone to be free with. I’m just a rabbit, you know.”

“Oh,” the man said, “Well still, like I said, I would give anything to be able to sit here all day and appreciate the scene.” 

The rabbit looked around. “Scene?”

“Yes. It’s beautiful today.” 

“Oh. I don’t really know what that means.”

The man was quiet. “Oh.” 

The rabbit twitched his nose again. “Must be nice to know what beautiful is.” 

“Yes. I suppose it is.” 

The man and rabbit were quiet after that.