Cold Coffee Storm In A Sippy-Paper Cup.

The comfortable, familiar taste, sans the warmth. Which was partly why you bought the coffee: to warm your heart while it goes down to warm your core. It's gosh-coffee.

I sip it now, out of the paper cup, through the badly-manufactured plastico adult sippy-cuppo - and wonder: a coffee without the warmth, is it still the coffee you set out to purchase?

It was gosh-coffee. But now it's... Well, coffee. Still thick, sweet, and suitably robust, still gives you the same caffeine kick- but what about the warmth? A bit like love-gone-cold, isn't it? Still there, but - y'know.

But so what? Isn't that another way to know thine coffee? Some not just like it cold I hear, they like it frapped. Topped with whipped cream and cocoa rock'n'roll. Me, budding ole fogey that I am, prefer the traditional. Robust, butter-caramelised, roasted coffee. With generous lashings of sweet, thick milk. 

So my gosh-coffee got cold. I'll still drink it. Because I have it, because I chose it, my tea-time autonomy. And so it was.