\ud83d\udd6f Half a Cup of Tea
\n(Ivy Camden \u2013 Soothing Short #2)<\/p>\n
There was exactly half a cup of tea left in the pot.<\/p>\n
Too much to throw out, not enough to reheat. So Sylvie stood in her kitchen, cradling the cup between both hands, letting it warm the space between her ribs.<\/p>\n
She used to make two cups. One for her, one for Mark. Or for Tess, when she dropped by. Or for whoever happened to need something warm to hold while unloading a day\u2019s worth of stories.<\/p>\n
But lately, she made one. And even then, never drank it all.<\/p>\n
She sipped anyway\u2014lukewarm, floral, grounding. Outside, a cardinal darted through the snow-dusted bush like a spark of red ribbon. The winter sun was already dipping, the shadows long and blue.<\/p>\n
She poured the rest into the second mug. The one with the chip in the handle. Set it across the table.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t expect anyone.<\/p>\n
But not expecting wasn\u2019t the same as giving up.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\ud83d\udd6f Half a Cup of Tea (Ivy Camden \u2013 Soothing Short #2) There was exactly half a cup of tea left in the pot. Too much to throw out, not enough to reheat. So Sylvie stood in her kitchen, cradling the cup between both hands, letting it warm the space between her ribs. She used […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":259,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-333","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"blocksy_meta":{"styles_descriptor":{"styles":{"desktop":"","tablet":"","mobile":""},"google_fonts":[],"version":8}},"yoast_head":"\n