A Cup of Coffee

I needed a mocha this morning but I had vowed that I would buy myself one if I got out of the house before 7AM.  I left at 7:12AM.  No mocha for me.
It is a rainy day, dark and fresh in the early morning haze.  I decided to make myself a bitter drink.  Two heaping spoons of dark cocoa and a medium blend of office Starbucks would do.
I stood by the window stirring the wet and dry together using the porcelain spoon of my orange and white porcelain mug.  It reads Paris on it.  Standing by the window looking over the wet parking lot as the sun rays were trying to battle the thick clouds I was wondering how a cup of coffee would feel for a lady with a boyish short hair on a wet November morning in Paris.