After we've run the cold-brew chocolate through the strainer, what's left is a fragrant golden brown liquid. Katie takes a long sip, and I follow suit, letting it roll around on my tongue - what chocolate tastes like at its heart: bitter and sweet and floral.
The theobromine in it settles right at my heart chakra, a cold fire that singes away my excess thoughts, leaving me dispassionately observing the world. Outside, the sky above is flat gray tinged orange by the streetlights, and I take my time walking the dog, strolling the sidewalks and watching the cars pass and fade, pass and fade.
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