“My cup runneth over!” he exclaimed as we sat in the café on the presumption of enjoying morning tea together.

It was happening again as it had the week before.

In front of us, the coffee stain spread over the white café tablecloth and edged as it had previously done towards the extremities of the table.

You could be forgiven for being clumsy and Jake was the least clumsy person I knew. So, there was an element of alarm as the coffee in his cup continued to bubble over the sides of his cup.

“Its sort of seismic isn’t it,” I remarked as I found myself moving further away from the table in fear of the hot coffee scalding me. For that was the other factor to consider. The coffee didn’t cool as it spread across the table but rather seemed to get hotter.

“Is it me? Is it this café?” asked Jake getting more and more panicky as the phenomena increased in magnitude.

By now, we had both risen from our seats and were standing well back as the stain reached the extremes of the table. Once at the edge, it stopped, for a moment built in a degree of intensity before establishing a perimeter and settling into maintaining what it had acquired.

Mario owner of the Vesuvius café was none too pleased as this was the second time we had visited and the second time this had happened. He had earlier explained that last week after we left, he spent half his day cleaning the stained table cloth.

Today he was quick to dismiss us, telling us not to return as he couldn’t afford the time to clean up after us and the, erupting coffee was giving his business a bad name.

By now the offending cup was still steaming, with an occasional bubble bursting through the solidifying surface, a reminder of the strange incident.

There was one final obscene burp from within the cup and silence settled over the café. Other patrons were watching their cups in anticipation of their cups exploding in a similar way.

Outside we concluded it must be Jake as it only happened when he went into the café and no one else appeared to be setting off volcanic eruptions in their coffee.

Needless to say, we approached the next café with an air of trepidation.

“Who’d a thought having a coffee could be so dangerous,” remarked Jake as we made our way into the Krakatoa Bar and Grill.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/11/21/tale-weaver-250-cup-21st-november/