Tea, anyone? I've got something nice and neat brewing in the kettle. Grab a cup and take a sip.

There are many ways to make yourself a nice cup of tea. I always take mine with two limbs of sugar, maybe a splash of blood, nothing too daring really. However the other day I was busy brewing (the usual tea for divination: 1 tablespoon of English breakfast, 2 teaspoons of lemon balm, 1 teaspoon of eyenright, 1 tablespoon of mugwort and 1 tablespoon of rose hips), when a sudden shiver came over my body: we're all out of English breakfast!

My sister walked into the kitchen and saw the dispear on my face. "What's wrong?", she asked. "We're all out of English breakfast!". "Really?", she said while taking a sip from her tea. There I saw, still hanging from her cup, the last teabag of English breakfast. I was outraged! How did she dare!? The brutality of playing an innocent! As she walked off, I carefully pulled a hair out of her scalp. From the mantelpiece I snatched away a picture, got it out of the frame and lay it neatly besides the hair. As I'd put the kettle on, I went searching for the last and main ingredient: her childhood teddy bear, still sitting neatly on her bed.


The water had boiled by the time I returned. So I grabbed myself a cup, her cup, and poured the water in first. I waited until the water was stagnant before adding the rest of the ingredients. First I put the hair in, then I teared the photograph into two and last but certainly not least I grabbed myself a sharp knife and began to chop away the limbs, guts, eyes, and all that's in between from the teddy bear. Unfortunately not all of dear teddy could fit into the cup, so I resigned by just putting one limp -a paw- in to stir with. To make it all a bit more tasty (because we all know that neither a hair, photograph or old teddy bear are nice for the taste buds), I improvised and added some -not too much- Green tea extract in there as well.

As I stirred with one paw, I gazed into the cup. Slowly I saw all of my sister's problems drown into the hot water for as long as I pleased. Now, I thought to myself, I'll leave it to grow mould and watch everything she cherish to rot and wither. As I was about to cast a spell on it all, my mother walked in. "What you brewing, darling?". "We're all out of English breakfast", I stoically answered. "Well there are some more teabags left in the cupboard below."


How do you take your tea? Or do you rather reconcile yourself with a nice cup of coffee?

Love,
Dominique


P.s. Nothing to worry, my sister doesn't drink tea.