Where the Coffee Stays Warm

Nobody tells you what trusting the process actually costs. They don't mention the rain. They don't mention the streets you walk a hundred times before you see what's on them.

They don't mention that the thing you needed was already there - warm, unhurried, certain - waiting on the corner of then and now, leaving a light on, keeping the coffee hot, patient in the way that only true things are patient.

The process doesn't wait for you to be ready. It just leaves a light on and lets you find your way to the door.