The Reflection of the Desk Lamp in My Cold Coffee

Dear Delyara, It is 4:15 AM, and the surface of my coffee has gone completely still, turning into a perfect, dark mirror that reflects the small yellow bulb of my desk lamp. It looks like a tiny, lonely star trapped at the bottom of a black well. I stared into it for a long time, watching my own dark silhouette frame the light. When you stay awake for this long in total isolation, your mind starts to look exactly like that cup—cold, dark, and holding nothing but a reflection of the small, artificial things you use to keep the darkness from swallowing you completely. I took a slow sip, breaking the reflection, and swallowed the bitter cold taste just to clear the screen.