My Encounter With Turkish Coffee

A Very Short Story
*Based on a personal experience

I held the Turkish coffee pot in my hand. The water was boiling. I added two spoonfuls of Turkish coffee powder, and watched as the water absorbed the powder, they blended together softly and formed a thick substance. It began to boil, forming large bubbles. They began rising and rising, I removed the pot quickly, fearing the dark liquid would spill all over the stove. The bubbles calmed down and the liquid continued to boil calmly. I placed the pot on the stove-top again. The dark bubbles started to rise again. This time I let them. They reached half way through the pot, roaring vigorously. I defied them, daring them to overflow, pushing them to their limit. The bubbles kept rising. They reached the edge of the pot. I prepared myself for the worse; black liquid bursting out of the pot, spilling all over the stove-top, flowing down and forming a puddle on the ground. A nightmare.
They rose above the edge, this is it, I thought, now they are going to explode all over the place. My heart raced as I watched them. I waited. They kept flowing rapidly, an inch above the edge of the pot. I waited for the first drop to make it's way down the pot's walls, inviting the other billion drops to follow. But nothing happened. They kept rising, simmering, defying gravity with their energetic dance, and I kept waiting, looking at them with bewilderment, wondering whether I had won the bet.