The taste of coffee, the story of coffee, the amorous feelings of coffee meet coffee.

Coffee is supposed to be sweet.

I met Ye online, although we were in the same school at that time. I was a freshman and she was a senior. I remember the time I entered the chat room, my name was "hate coffee", and she was "COFFEE". First, she said to me, "Why do you hate coffee? Isn't it good? "

"No, I don't like the taste of coffee. It's bitter."

"Hey."

"Why do you sigh?"

"you haven't tasted the real taste of coffee. In fact, coffee is sweet."

"Sweet?" I'm confused.

"Yes, everything is bitter before sweet. That's why I like coffee, and it takes heart to taste it. "

I think what she said is as serious as philosophy. When we left addresses to each other, I laughed when I saw the same address on the screen.

She is already a senior and has her last year in this university. Usually I like to call her Leaf, she always smiles and agrees, so this leaf has become my "patent". In fact, it is not a "patent". The fundamental reason is that I do not know her name. I only know her surname Ye. Later, when I saw her to receive the award at a series of conferences, I knew her full name, but I didn't want to change it, because it was kinder, at least I thought.

Perhaps since then, "Leaf" has really become my "patent" and her "privilege" to me. It may be fate, somehow, our dormitory at this level was mistakenly moved to the bottom of the leaf dormitory by the school. from then on, we often went for a walk together. I don't know how many footprints we left on the tree-lined road at school. Ye is an energetic but very serious girl. She said to me:

"it's my wish to be a good sports journalist." I know we want the same thing. "because I like sports, especially football, I love it deeply."

I had an excited look on my face because we were like-minded.

"the player I admire most is Maradona Although he is not perfect, but the world is like this, everything can not be perfect. Perhaps it is because of his imperfection that more fans pay attention to him and attract more than his superb skills. "

"I like Baggio." I said

She smiled at me and said, "it seems that we both like sad people."

I don't know if this statement is correct, but I didn't refute it. Maybe, as Ye said, "they are the king of grief." We talked a lot on that road. And often, I always speak very little, I like to listen to her, there is a passion in that soft voice. After knowing Leaf, I thought that I might be a very good listener.

At the 2000 European Championships, Ye and I were very excited, but there was no TV in the dormitory, so the desire to watch the game came to naught. We only learned something about the war from the newspaper, and the newspaper became the only hungry tool for us to maintain that bubble fantasy. On the night of the final, we decided not to go back to our dormitory, but to see the match between Italy and France, thinking that we all liked Italy with a strong Mediterranean flavor. We went to a bar near the school. After 2: 00 in the morning, the game began, and we finally saw the game we were looking forward to. The leaf ordered a cup of coffee-unsweetened. She says she wants to keep her brain awake and excited to cheer for Italy. I'll take it, too-- she asked for it for me-- without sugar. But I didn't think as much as she did. I was just afraid that I would fall asleep because I was too sleepy, which was a bit ridiculous. I was a little afraid to try unsweetened coffee, but it was a wonderful game, even though Baggio didn't take part in it. I lifted the cup and took a sip. It was so bitter. "bitterness is the original taste of coffee," she once told me. "if you want to drink it, drink it pure. If you add that sugar, the coffee will be fake-just like a human being." "what about you?" Once I asked her. "me? What do you think? " Laugh, leaves leave me only laughter and endless thinking. Before the end of the first half, I finished the cup of thick pure coffee. She looked at me and smiled. It was a relaxation after concentration. It was recognition and appreciation for my progress. I just guessed. Sometimes I feel like I'm obedient to the leaves. I don't know what drives me. The second half began, with the leaves sipping coffee and watching the game, saying "good ball" from time to time. I still sat quietly, watching every pass carefully. When Italy led France 1-0, we jumped with excitement, especially her, exaggerating and cheering. But in the end, France once again became a sea of joy. I was shocked, and so was she, and the victory disappeared in the last 10 seconds. At the moment, it was uncomfortably quiet in the bar. My eyes stayed on the screen and tears rolled out. The sobbing was for the leaves. I turned my head and she threw herself on the table, her shoulders undulating. I can't sleep tonight. Neither of us could sleep because we drank too much plain coffee. Suddenly she ordered a bottle of white wine. Ask me to drink with you, but I never drink spirits, but this time I said yes. The first time I drank spirits, I felt dizzy and fell asleep in a daze. So is the leaf. When she woke up, she told me, "it's called drinking to drown your sorrows." How could we sleep after drinking so much coffee that day? " On the day Ye graduated, she sent me a card with a new leaf painted on it. The words of encouragement are written on it, "the road is on your own." And then there is her motto-for you, I will climb in through the window-I know that this "you" is not anyone, but her loyal news. It was once in the newspaper that a reporter from the New York Times said, "if someone stops me from going in for an interview, I will climb in through the window." The leaf said that she likes this kind of spirit, also wants this kind of spirit. "that's what journalists do. They can't let go of any piece of valuable news." Her philosophical words blurted out, so I took it, not only oral but also convinced. At the bottom is the sentence she said to me when we met for the first time, "the taste of coffee is sweet", followed by her name-"Leaf". I keep this card very well. The day Ye left, I went to see her off. She was hired as a reporter by a famous sports magazine, which was reasonable. She was very outstanding in her achievements, especially her Football and Economics won high praise. So that day she needed to go to another city by train and start a new life. Walking through the familiar shady tree, I suddenly asked her, "Leaf, what do you think of coffee with tears?" There was an expression of surprise on her face, just for a moment, and then a smile flashed across her face and said freely, "that's very valuable. Why are you willing to give it to me?" Her naughty eyes looked at me, and I smiled. I didn't expect her to answer in such a joking way instead of her usual serious attitude. When I came to the railway station, I saw many people waving to her. She pulled me over, her face full of excitement and joy. Those are her friends. She introduced them to me one by one. I couldn't remember too many people. I just smiled and nodded to show that I knew. It was nice to meet you. Before the introduction is finished, Ye is about to get on the bus. She was still smiling and waving when the train started. When she sat down, she chatted with a friend sitting opposite. Leaf will not be lonely on the road, because everyone is a friend to her, but to different degrees, I am glad that I belong to her deep friends. A few months later, I received the first letter from Ye after work. She said, everything is fine, but too busy, but she is very happy, and then she will go abroad for an interview, I do not know when to return, so let me not write to her, you can call. She said she would miss me. I am very satisfied to see these, because it is happy to be her friend. On the second page, she mentioned the question I asked her when she left. "Coffee with tears, you asked me, I was surprised. On the train, I thought a lot, but I will not like, tears will dilute the coffee, but not that sweet, but with a touch of salty. " She said, the truth. She said the truth. The last address is "on the Road", which reminds me of "A friend on the Road" written by Su Tong, who is also a friend of mine on the road, but not to pursue a unique way of life like Lijun. But in her words, "the work of a journalist is on the road."

A few days after the Spring Festival this year, I received a package sent to me by the leaves, which contained a bottle of exquisite Irish coffee. There is a note in it: "A New year's gift for you. Try it. The coffee is sweet." There was a moment in my head when I saw a book in a bookstore that said, "what kind of coffee would you like?" "Irish coffee."

"would you like to add tears?"

"what?."

I'm confused. Maybe it's all a coincidence. After I made a cup of Irish coffee, I could smell the strong aroma of the coffee. The bitter faint fragrance came to the nostrils. Holding the coffee cup in my left hand, I let the liquefied white smoke pass by my face, warm and wet, just like touching and kissing. The coffee crept into the mouth rather than how bitter it tasted. Perhaps the sense of taste has been maimed by my love, and the sense of taste has gradually faded. This kind of reasoning is ridiculous. I once told Leaf that she thought. I lifted the cup and took a second sip. After a touch of bitterness, a thick, quiet heat flow slid down the esophagus, blending with the moment the aroma was in my body. I liked it. After tasting a cup of coffee sent by leaves, I suddenly realized that the coffee is really sweet, in fact, it needs to be felt attentively, and the aftertaste of the coffee is sweet. I am a person who will be changed, and that person is the leaf. I always feel that I and the leaves are connected by that black and white. Black coffee, white football. The leaf is the coffee, pure, real she gives people endless beautiful aftertaste; and I, perhaps that football, is deeply loved by her.

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