A Coffee With Mercedes.

 - "It smells like good coffee, old man," said Mercedes, almost shouting, trying to make her voice rise above the heavy rain pounding on the asbestos roof of her old house.

- "I'm already pouring it!" replied Don Onorio, also trying to make himself heard over the noise.

Three days ago, on the old antenna TV set on an ironing board in front of the worn wooden dining table, a regional newscast had given the weather forecast, announcing heavy rain for the entire week. A couple of days later, all communication signals were lost.

Through the windowpanes, nothing could be seen but a dense fog. Very few cars could be heard passing by the old road. The previous night, Don Onorio had suddenly woken up, thinking he had heard a loud crash on the road in front of his house, as if a car had slammed into a wall. In addition to that, he heard a couple of blood-curdling screams, followed by complete silence.

The old man placed two cups on the dining table, sat next to Mercedes, and recalled the incident.

- "Do you remember that awful scream last night?" asked Don Onorio.

- "What scream, old man?" Mercedes responded, confused.

- "What do you mean, 'what scream'? Old age brings deafness, old woman, but you’d have to be dead not to hear such an agonizing scream."

- "Old age also comes with a loss of sanity. Are you sure you're not going crazy, old man?" Mercedes said cheerfully, to which Don Onorio responded with a scowl.

- "I'm serious, Mercedes, it was horrible. The sound of metal against concrete, the scream of pain, and then the silence that followed... it spelled death around here."

- "I see where Matías gets all his creativity from. You're quite the storyteller."

Silence fell between the couple as they sipped the bitter drink.

With a melancholic tone, they both started to think about their three children, whom they hadn’t seen in almost a year. Outside the house, the rain didn’t stop.

Aside from the sound of rain hitting the asbestos roof, you could also hear the drip of water falling into buckets placed on the floor beneath leaks in the roof. Since the storm began, Don Onorio hadn’t been able to leave his home, not even to check what had happened the previous night.

- "It's been almost a month since we last spoke with Matías. How do you think his project for that company in Panama is going?" wondered Don Onorio.

- "I'm sure he's doing fine. I remember how excited he was. Hearing him talk about it over the phone was infectious, even though we had no idea what that job entailed. He's been working on it for a year now, and his enthusiasm hasn’t wavered. My poor boy, working so hard. I just hope his wife has a hot meal waiting for him whenever he gets home."

- "He's not the one I worry about. He’s incredibly strong spiritually. It's Patricia who concerns me. Ever since she got laid off from the oil company, she hasn't called. She changed her number, and I can’t find her anywhere. It’s been over a month since we last spoke, and I only know bits and pieces about her through the neighbor who finds out from the 'Internet.'"

- "Maybe she just doesn’t want to worry us, old man. Even as a child, she never liked asking for advice, not even from us. And despite everything, she’s done well for herself. She’s very independent—too independent, for my taste. She still clings to the stubbornness of remaining single."

- "Seems just like you haha. What man could handle such a character?" said the old man, jokingly.

- "Only us, because even her brothers sometimes don't want to be too close to her. My girl is so beautiful; she just needs someone to appreciate her." With that, she sighed.

The TV signal came back, showing a soap opera, but the old couple ignored it and continued their conversation.

- "And little Onorio, still as much of a dreamer as when he started his career. Artistic careers in this country are more expensive than I thought. My pension barely covers his studies in the city. Although it’s not that hard to survive with what we grow here, I sometimes miss buying my sweet treats."

- "But you know your sugar problems, Onorio. It's good for you to stay away from those deliciously sweet desserts."

- "You're no help, old woman."

- "I sacrificed with you, dumbass. When the doctor told you what diet to follow to stay healthy, I started sharing the same boring meals with you. It’s so hard to drink this coffee without even half a teaspoon of sugar."

- "True, you didn’t have to do that. Though, it has made it easier for me to eat without being tempted by someone else eating something other than what I should."

The TV signal cut out again. A colder air filled the house. The battery clock on the wall read 5:17 in the afternoon. Suddenly, the chair next to Don Onorio was empty. The old man’s cup was already empty, while the other remained full and cold.

- "Oh, old woman, things don’t change. This town on the mountaintop is still the same. The cars are the same, the stores are the same, the people are the same, everything stays the same. Even when you were here, the days were monotonous, but you made them better, and all you did was sit in your chair and knit me sweaters and hats while humming a tune. Today, it feels like the house is crumbling along with me."

With tears in his eyes, crossing his arms as if hugging himself to protect against the cold, he tried to stay strong. He wore a beautiful striped blue and green sweater that Mercedes had knitted for him, old khaki pants, and worn-out shoes. His thinning hair was white, and the wrinkles on his face marked the tiredness of a lonely old man. His mustache was still shaved, just as Mercedes liked it.

The wounds from the accident were still infected and causing pain in Don Onorio’s body. But the scar that hurt him the most was the absence of his stubborn and beloved Mercedes.

In a weak voice, the old man cried out to the emptiness:

- "I miss you so much, my dear."