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Café con leche at 3am

Monday I refreshed the flowers and the water glasses on my bóveda for my eggun, like every Monday. White carnations this time, because they were on sale and Abuela Cuca would have approved of the bargain. Woke at 3am to the smell of café con leche. Strong, sweet, scalded milk, exactly how she made it, with the pinch of salt nobody believed was in there. Nobody in my apartment drinks coffee after noon. The kitchen was dark and cold. I didn't go looking for anything. I just said, 'Bendición, Abuela,' and went back to sleep smiling. This morning I put a little cup of café on the bóveda for her. Sweet, scalded, with the pinch of salt.