A Half-Drunk Mug of Tea

half_drunk_mug

I am looking for my tea-mugs; one is green, the other, floral. I find them on the window-sill, both half drunk, as always.

It tells me two things; she must have been here twice, and I would make a poor house-maid. I take the mugs, head for the kitchen to pour them out. Instead, I place them on the sink. I glare at them, suddenly realizing that a half-drunk mug of tea is no longer a half-drunk mug of tea.

It is a song, played at the right time, then the wrong. It is a book, recommended, then left to dust. It is a movie, shared, then returned.

It has a pair of eyes now. It has hair. It has a voice, and even a particular way of touching my hand.

“Well, shit,” I tell the tea. It doesn’t get angry, it doesn’t mock. It is tea.

I pour it out.

How the hell am I going to spend the rest of my life avoiding half-drunk mugs of tea? I think, setting the kettle on.

 

17 comments

  1. Hahaha, again a story that makes me laugh … well, I love drunken tea cups, …no need to explain… And the situations are very figurative, bravo !
    And no need to worry. Better communicate with teacups, than put them thoughtlessly in the refrigerator and find them three days later there!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I think you will have to take a stand here and make sure you sit down and drain every last drop from now until forever. There is no way out. Just will power. Or drink whisky. You can never leave a cup half drunk then. Or maybe then you can be the one who is half drunk.

    Liked by 1 person

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