Turkish coffee

July. Thursday. Turkey. Afternoon heat. Watch up to six more hours. I'm still free and free.
Café ask to bring «Turkish Koffee». Charming Turk took with my order. I smoke and wait until your coffee. A quiet street - the second intersection of the main road. A dozen tables on the street - all under large umbrellas. Around the huge plane trees give us their shadow. Slow undertone people discuss important to them.
Provёz its transparent trolley with pilaf elderly man in a fez. Gently invited all their goods.
Ah, my Turkish coffee! Mikrochashechka under the lid, tiny sugar bowl with candied fruit, which in coconut flakes. And next to a glass of ice water.

5. I simply years. At night, my mother read to me Andersen's fairy tales. There was, and about the magic chest, and about a little flour, and about the unknown then Turkey. And, then in school I learned that in addition to the Indian instant coffee from tin cans, is still in napёrstochnyh cups of coffee that is brewed in hot sand and served with ice water. Turkish.
Now it's my turn came - to meet with a thick, smelling the equator and Kilimanjaro coffee. And refresh the mouth with ice water. Again, take a sip of coffee viscous juice. Obfuscate all good tobacco. And part with this cup of bitter farewell kiss.

And another dream come true.

© RealTor



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