The morning coffee. I'm not sure why I drink it. Maybe it's the ritual

早上的咖啡。我不太清楚我为什么喝它。或许它是一种宗教仪式，杯子、茶匙、热水、奶、一小堆黄糖聚在一起，形成一个我可以把一天挂在上面的钉子。或许是因为在睡着和醒来之间总要做些什么。当然，确实有些事情——比起喝一杯速溶咖啡——更值得做。比如说冥想？关于什么？关于喝一杯咖啡。一杯喝第一口的时候太烫，喝最后一口的时候又太凉的咖啡，但中间的那一口口咖啡，恰似熊宝宝的燕麦粥——刚刚好。熊爸爸憋着无名火儿，他摘下眼镜，转动眼珠看着坐在熊宝宝面前的杯子，然后，在断续咳嗽几下后，展开肩肘把杯子拿起来。熊宝宝不理解早晨的惯例为什么会突然中断。熊爸爸把杯子靠近它的脸，仔细端详。杯子在它的熊爪中破碎，真真切切地炸开，把碎片和棕色的液体撒遍屋子。从某种意义上来说熊妈妈不在那里是一件好事。该庆幸它在花园外面的坟墓里长眠，不知道这个世界上发生了什么。

of the cup, the spoon, the hot water, the milk, and the little heap of

brown grit, the way they come together to form a nail I can hang the

day on. It's something to do between being asleep and being awake.

Surely there's something better to do, though, than to drink a cup of

instant coffee. Such as meditate? About what? About having a cup of

coffee. A cup of coffee whose first drink is too hot and whose last drink

is too cool, but whose many in-between drinks are, like Baby Bear's por-

ridge, just right. Papa Bear looks disgruntled. He removes his spectacles

and swivels his eyes onto the cup that sits before Baby Bear, and then,

after a discrete cough, reaches over and picks it up. Baby Bear doesn't

understand this disruption of the morning routine. Papa Bear brings

the cup close to his face and peers at it intently. The cup shatters in his

paw, explodes actually, sending fragments and brown liquid all over the

room. In a way it's good that Mama Bear isn't there. Better that she rest

in her grave beyond the garden, unaware of what has happened to the

world.