It only takes about forty five seconds for the Waitrose coffee machine to make you a free cup of coffee. The dark liquid comes first, followed by milky one. The best part comes at the end when the nozzles rev up and produce the thickest, whitest of froth that swirls gently, soft finishing touch as if making own little ice cream cones.
I see them now in the shape of the clouds as I fly above them, (un)safely on board of a plane full of people who wouldn't know what on earth I am on about. But it's all in the detail, you see. All in that forty five seconds of luck (?) in which I lift my eyes from above the notes I am making and glance through the little oval window that can't be opened. Some little brain cells bring up images from my coffee making experience and mix them with this now view - a white landscape of visible gases. Little craters and valleys and creeks and there, just over my shoulder, the Waitrose coffee finishing touches - little swirls of cream dressed as clouds.
And you might think it's luck and a silly talk but there is power in the detail. I would like to know if we make decisions based on true conscious effort or rather on milliards of those details stashed away in tiny memories. If we catch expressions, tone of voices, hesitations? Subconsciously bring them up later, layer them on top of questions marks, definitives and insecurities and call them gut feelings?
It only takes about forty five seconds for the Waitrose coffee machine to make you a free cup of coffee. It only takes about five seconds for the whitest, softest, ice cream like swirls to settle gently right on top. You blink for a tad longer and you miss it. Details - so powerful, so hard to spot.
