I awoke suddenly. I shot up in my bed. It was morning. I couldn't be sure of the time. Six, maybe six thirty. I knew it was early. I curled my toes underneath the blanket. I breathed in and out slowly. I watched as my chest rose up and down. I felt the warmth of the down comforter on my body. I was immersed in it. I was in a cocoon.
As I put one foot on the floor, the other foot followed. I crept like a cat burglar to the kitchen. Tip toe, tip toe, one foot after the other. I entered the kitchen. I began to salivate. There it was: a black, shiny beacon of hope.
I spotted it! The refrigerator and (more importantly) the freezer. I opened the freezer and took out the canister of tiny, wondrous brown granules. I approached the glistening dark knight of salvation otherwise known as Mr. Coffee. I placed the filter into it's head. I carefully poured the granules into the filter and pressed the glowing blue button.
The sounds of hot, delicious liquid gold streaming through the filter could be heard from the heavens. As soon as the brown liquid courage was ready to be consumed, I eagerly grabbed my favorite mug that simply had the letter "S" on it. I poured the glorious beverage into my ceramic partner in crime with a smile on my face and love in my heart.
My hand reached without thinking for the refrigerator door. As it opened, I knew exactly what I was looking for. There it sat waiting for me. It was short and portly in a brown and white container. It said "half and half."
I grabbed it without thinking. Just as I felt the container in my hand, I realized that something was very wrong. The short fat container was light as a feather. I began to shake with fear. My coffee was ready for its fiancé. But it had been stood up at the altar.
My grasp on the portly container loosened. The empty half and half container fell to the kitchen floor.
I stood there staring at the black liquid in my ceramic friend feeling empty inside.
There's a hole in my heart that can only be filled by half and half.