Greek Coffee In An Emergency
by Andrew McCallum Crawford
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: One strong one.
Description: The title says it all...
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We were out of canisters. I was not chuffed. I liked my Greek coffee during the break between lessons. But it’s hard to make Greek coffee when there are no canisters for the camping gas burner. The secretary had been informed. She had forgotten.
Kostas was unconcerned. He was a good boss. He smiled at me.
‘We used to do it like this in the army,’ he said. ‘ “Necessity is the mother of invention”, yeah?’
He reached up to the first aid box and took out a wad of cotton wool, which he placed in the sink. Then he added a generous, it seemed to me, squirt from a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
I could see where he was going.
He emptied two small cupfuls of water into the briki and added coffee and sugar.
The secretary appeared at the door.
Kostas flicked his lighter at the cotton wool, which ignited immediately. He held the briki over the flame until the mixture was bubbling. Then he filled our cups to the brim.
‘You see?’ he said. ‘Necessity is the mother of invention.’
‘Your Health,’ I said, and sipped. The coffee was lovely.
Something occurred to me.
‘Kostas,’ I said. ‘What happens if you don’t have access to cotton wool and alcohol?’
The secretary coughed. She looked embarrassed.
Kostas stared at me over the rim of his cup.
‘Well, Andy,’ he said. ‘Then you’re fucked.’
Swearwords: One strong one.
Description: The title says it all...
_____________________________________________________________________
We were out of canisters. I was not chuffed. I liked my Greek coffee during the break between lessons. But it’s hard to make Greek coffee when there are no canisters for the camping gas burner. The secretary had been informed. She had forgotten.
Kostas was unconcerned. He was a good boss. He smiled at me.
‘We used to do it like this in the army,’ he said. ‘ “Necessity is the mother of invention”, yeah?’
He reached up to the first aid box and took out a wad of cotton wool, which he placed in the sink. Then he added a generous, it seemed to me, squirt from a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
I could see where he was going.
He emptied two small cupfuls of water into the briki and added coffee and sugar.
The secretary appeared at the door.
Kostas flicked his lighter at the cotton wool, which ignited immediately. He held the briki over the flame until the mixture was bubbling. Then he filled our cups to the brim.
‘You see?’ he said. ‘Necessity is the mother of invention.’
‘Your Health,’ I said, and sipped. The coffee was lovely.
Something occurred to me.
‘Kostas,’ I said. ‘What happens if you don’t have access to cotton wool and alcohol?’
The secretary coughed. She looked embarrassed.
Kostas stared at me over the rim of his cup.
‘Well, Andy,’ he said. ‘Then you’re fucked.’
About the Author
Andrew McCallum Crawford was born in Grangemouth and now lives in Greece. His poetry and short fiction have appeared in Lines Review, Junk Junction, The Athens News and Ink Sweat and Tears. His first novel, Drive! – a story of 1980’s Edinburgh pub rock, attempted patricide and arson – was published last year.
His blog can be found at http://www.andrewmccallumcrawford.blogspot.com/ and his novel can be purchased at this link on Amazon.co.uk.
His blog can be found at http://www.andrewmccallumcrawford.blogspot.com/ and his novel can be purchased at this link on Amazon.co.uk.