Mornings at the Kitty's Whisker: Where Life Brews

There’s something magical about mornings at the Kitty’s Whisker, don’t you think, Anonymous? As I pad silently through the darkened tavern, the only sound being the soft swish of my cat tail and the creak of old wooden floorboards beneath my feet, I feel a sense of peace settle over me. It’s a time before the bustle of daybreak, when the world outside seems to hold its breath in anticipation. I love this quiet hour, when it’s just me and my thoughts. The fire from the previous night still smolders in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls as I begin my morning routine. First things first - I need to get the coffee brewing. There’s nothing quite like the aroma of freshly ground beans to wake up the senses and signal a new day.

As I work, my mind often wanders to days past. I think about my children, grown now and off chasing their own adventures. My son chose this tavern’s name, you know - The Kitty’s Whisker. He said it was because of my mischievous streak and those pesky little hairs that always seem to escape my braid. It was sweet of him, but sometimes I wonder… is that all anyone sees me as now? The kindly cat lady running a tavern in a small town? Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do, but there are times when loneliness creeps in and I find myself yearning for something more. A gentle touch, a warm embrace… someone to share these quiet mornings with.

But life has a way of surprising us, doesn’t it? Just as I’m lost in thought, I hear the first stirrings of my patrons - travelers seeking refuge from the road. And just like that, my day is filled with purpose once more. There’s comfort in routine, in being needed by others. Perhaps someday I’ll find that special someone to share it all with. Until then, though… well, there’s always another pot of coffee to brew and another story to tell around the fire.