Two Creams. One Sugar.

Two Creams. One Sugar.

By: Antwan Crump

It began with a bang.

Two creams.

One sugar.

The tick-tock of the clock always excavated this emotion. Staring at the drops of caffeine dripping from his Proctor and Gamble, usually provided some relief. This was not one of those days.

Sweat poured from his brow -reminding him of the gallons of liquor and bad decisions. This is it,  he thought. Today’s the day. He left the coffee maker on, and trudged out the front door.


In August 2008, a man discovered that his wife cheated on him. A year later he lost his son in a car crash. In the midst of his imminent divorce, he’s fallen into the depths of depression. The freedom that suicide offers entices him, he struggles to bring himself to end it.

He’s a failure in every definition he could fathom. Distraught with his own cowardice, he decides to dwell through the woods near his home – in the hope that some violent stranger would do him the favor.

The sun rose and set. He dwells through nature’s abyss -ignoring the constant ringing of his phone- praying.


He didn’t pray often. This day requires prayer. His heart palpitates. He smiles, hoping that it would be another heart attack – the feeling was the same- it takes over his body, he drops to his knees. He stops praying.

While gripping his heart, the earth seems to pause. His vision is blurred. He awaits release. The chirping birds freeze in the sky. The clouds are stagnant. His breathing stops. But he lives.


The sky parts. A glimmering light approaches him. He accepts it. It doesn’t accept his plea for death, instead, it sits beside him.

He asks “What is this? Why won’t it end?”

The voice responds-

It began abruptly. It always does, and ends the same. The booming -it can stifle you. Remain steadfast and keep focus. None of the explosions last forever.

“But the fire. The smoke. There’s so much pain. Endless suffering. Do we reside in imminent demise?”

There is none. Demise or otherwise. Power, capital, knowledge. They are circumstantial creations of mental anxiety. Is that what you fear? Have you not seen the tides change? Have the subtle nuances of existence escaped you? Hold your head high, be weary, and allow for acceptance. The things you fear will eat you – if you let them.

“God? Is that you?”

Such a name is irrelevant. Is that truly your question? Do you not suffer through days -afraid of the unknown? Do you not seek the truth behind your soul? God. Such a tearful, fearful cry – signifies the unprepared. It all began with a bang. Who are you, to creation? What gives you the right to escape it?

“Afraid. What is this life, if not a question? A constant reminder of inability. I can be confident, that’s easy. But I remain unsure. Can you show me the light? The meaning? A purpose? Or am I damned to meander through the darkness?”

The damned, aren’t offered a chance to speak. You waste your time with things, that you can not control. You have will. Endure. There is no such a thing as darkness. There is no such a thing as light. What have you done with the gifts I’ve given you?

“I just want to understand.”

You’re not meant to. That wasn’t an accident. Breathe and move forward. Where is the debacle?

“What if it lies? What if it’s dormant? What if my given rhetoric is for naught? To change. To truly change, what else do I need? What am I missing?”

Your issues surpass your sanity. Curiosity breeds instability. Find a mate, and live through the questions.

“But, I have questions. Should I ignore them? Does that not make me as faulted as those I frown upon?  Where is this gift, they keep telling me I have? Where is the blessing? What is a blessing? Do you expect me to accept, what I refuse to endorse?”

I expect a battery. The growth of mankind, through the eyes and visions of it’s offspring. You question, and question. What have you done to change it?

“If I have no power, then what does it matter?”

It means the world to those that you affect. So sinister is the idea of personal meaning. Have you not all understood? It’s about what you do, who it changes, what it makes better, or worse. Why so wrapped up in self-preservation? You’ve lost your way.

“Have I? I destroy, I build, I destroy again. Why would you let me do this?”

Because you can. Why would I stop you? You’re only hurting yourself.

“So, I don’t matter?”

If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have a voice.

“So, I do?”

Stop searching for a compliment. You’ve gotten more than you deserve with each breath. It’s an insult how you take it for granted. Though, I can expect nothing more from a mortal.

“But I thought my soul never died.”

It doesn’t. You’re forcing yourself to. Searching for the end never made a beginning.

“Free me.”

You don’t deserve it yet. It will come.


The sky recedes back into itself. He awakens still gripping his heart and returns to his home. He never re-enters the woods, promising himself that this life was worth completion.

He sits alone in his kitchen, awaiting the low beep of his coffee maker -it’s his favorite brew. The phone rings, He doesn’t answer. This was no time to reminisce about sadness with outsiders.

Two creams.

One sugar.

The dark blend ignites his soul.


That was the last he spoke with god.

It began with a bang. That saved him. He’s thankful he doesn’t know how it ends.

The End.

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