Morning Tea

As I am writing these lines, I have a cup of tea standing by my side. I take this cup of tea, and I am satisfied with this tea, except, maybe, its slight coldness. My satisfaction lies in the tea. My satisfaction is a part of my tea. My satisfaction has become my tea.

The paper cup of my tea is burning my hand. How come it tastes warm, yet the tea itself is burning me? That's easy. Cold water moves up to the surface of the water, whereas hot water sinks to the bottom — basic physics.

Its hazel waters are darkening towards the bottom of the cup, and my sight faints within its depths. Who knows what's there? What if there's a monster? My beloved tea.

I prefer to add no sugar whatsoever to my tea. Sweet tea pleases me but equally makes me forget about all the sorrows of this world. Thus, I add no sugar to my tea. The solid taste of strong, warm tea slightly burns my mouth, but its contents refresh me, and I feel awake. That is a good satisfaction.

If you let the tea stand for too long, it will eventually become cold, and thus, the satisfaction goes.

I take another sip. Ah! What a good tea!

Perhaps I could treat myself to another cup of this pleasingly satisfying tea.

No.

My interview is coming up shortly. The reporters are already crowding near my desk. They have broken my sweet, or perhaps better to say, my bitter silence. Ah yes. Bitter silence it is.

I am raising my sight towards them. They look at me. I smile. They smile back. What an awkward interaction.

I carefully put my tea inside one of the compartments of my desk so as not to spill it. I am adjusting my tie so I look more formal. However, I doubt you can look more formal than sitting in a black suit with glowing cufflinks of gold, diamonds, and rubies.

But perhaps another cup of tea would make me look more formal.

A minute passes.

The cameras are pointing at me. The reporters are holding microphones directed towards me. The light is cutting into my eyes. I blink.

"Good day," I say to the reporters. "Good day," the reporters say back.

"Do they like tea?" I question myself.