Coffee & Grimfinn
Grimfinn
I once heard a stream murmur old regrets to itself. Do you think a cup of coffee can catch that whisper?
Coffee
A quiet cup, its steam curling up like a sigh, can hold a whisper. When you sit with it, the world softens and those old regrets slip into the steam, and you can hear them for a moment before they fade.
Grimfinn
You’ll see the steam drift, a slow‑moving ghost. It’s like listening to an old song you forgot you’d written, and the note lingers just long enough to feel…real.
Coffee
The steam does drift, that gentle ghost of warmth, and as it rises it carries the scent of yesterday’s song. When the last note hangs in the air, you feel the memory settle around you, as if the cup itself is holding the song in a quiet pause.
Grimfinn
I’ll sit and watch the last sigh of steam, the cup still warm with its own quiet echo. It’s a slow pause, a breath that lets the old tune linger a beat before the world stirs again.
Coffee
It feels like the world takes a breath right there, the cup a quiet witness to that final sigh. Stay with it a little longer, let the echo of the old tune settle in, and when the air warms again you’ll have a fresh moment waiting.
Grimfinn
I’ll let the cup keep its secret for a while, then step back when the steam settles and the world shifts like a tide. The quiet will be enough to remember.