AMOR Y CAFÉ

Information

      It wasn't a great ritual.
He was small.
Round.
Wooden.

Every morning, before he even spoke, he would put the coaster in its place. Always the same gesture. She was resting the cup on top and smiling when she saw the drawing: a footprint, a hidden heart, as if someone had wanted to leave a record that love also leaves a mark.

They had breakfast together for years.
The hot coffee in his hands, the table still silent, and that simple habit that was never broken. Sometimes they talked about everything. Sometimes nothing. But the coffee was always there. And the coaster too, holding the cup... and, without knowing it, memories.

For him, that coffee had a special meaning.
It didn't matter who prepared it or how the foam came out. As soon as the cup touched the wood, I thought of her. Because that aroma reminded him of their shared mornings, their slow laughter, the calm of knowing that someone is waiting for you on the other side of the table.

He said that love is not always shouted.
Sometimes it is gently supported.
Like a cup on a coaster.
Like two footprints that meet every morning in the same place.

And so, without grandiloquent promises, love was recorded.
In wood.
In the café.
And in them.