Sitting in his kitchen she was tasting small sips from the mug of coffee he had made for her. It was perfect. Its concentration was exactly how she liked it, the temperature was fine, with foam on the top and sweet enough despite she has never told him whether she preferred it with a sugary or with a bitter taste.
With each single sip a lot of thoughts flow quickly through her mind. She allows them to go through while she focuses on the taste of the coffee, on the simple pleasure of even being served up a coffee.
In the mirror used for decoration in his kitchen she stares at her lips covered with foam. Licking them with lust while gazing deeply into her eyes. Inside them is located her own identity.
From the other side of the kitchen, a loud and disgusting belch smashed to pieces her image in the glass and brings her back to reality with a bump.
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