pour

'Coffee', he said, and somewhat relieved, face relaxed and shoulders hunched, she dropped the pad and pencil down into the over-sized pouch of her peach apron. She brought the saucer and cup, and only then did she pour the beautiful hot liquid. He leaned in, inhaling close to capture her dark scent. And she leaned back against the chrome counter, closed her eyes briefly, then opened them to watch the cup.
Three cubes of sugar. More cream than usual. Then some more when he followed her eyes. He looked down as she raised hers to his.
He smiled, and his face warmed as he turned the cup.
'Just like my women - sweet, pale,' and blowing across the top of the cup,'and lukewarm.'

From Boris Hoppek's Tokyo exhibit "Ever"

Magpie 101 class meets on Sundays. Bring two pencils.