How to make the perfect cup of tea
i.
Stare out the window at the melancholy greyness of the day, at the monochromatic sky brushing the tops of the tall evergreens and at the muted shades of green tumbling down the sides of the mountain. Press your forehead against the cool panes of glass, letting the heavy winter silence fill you as you gaze at nothing in particular.
ii.
Slip down to the kitchen, breathing in the lingering aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg while waiting for the mug of water to heat. Set the mug on the gleaming countertop, then extract a single tea bag from the dark depths of a cupboard. Drop the tea bag into the mug, listening for the gentle plop as it hits the steaming water and slowly sinks down. Watch as gentle tendrils of rich orange rise slowly from the depths of the mug, swirling into complex patterns before dissipating.
iii.
Dunk the tea bag slowly, reverently, as the colour and flavour spreads through the water. Brush a strand of hair out of your eyes as you inhale the distinctive odour, fingers of steam reaching up to frame your face. Lift the tea bag from the mug, relishing its waterlogged heaviness and the way the drips of tea forms perfectly circular ripples. Remove a silver spoon from the drawer; plunge it deep into the sugar bowl and marvel at the way the tiny crystals form mountains and valleys at your command. Add a heaping spoonful of sugar to the tea, stirring it in with broad circular strokes; listen to the faint melodic clinking of the spoon against the delicate china, and watch as the shimmering crystals disappear.
iv.
Wrap your hands around the mug and let its warmth spread to the palms of your hands then up your arms. Return to the window and greet the familiar vista of mountain-flaked suburbia; stately homes with perfectly groomed lawns and stark, bare-branched trees. Take a slow sip of the aromatic liquid, basking in the way it glides down your throat and leaves a perfect feeling of warm contentment behind; close your eyes and lose yourself in the unexpected bliss of the moment.
Stare out the window at the melancholy greyness of the day, at the monochromatic sky brushing the tops of the tall evergreens and at the muted shades of green tumbling down the sides of the mountain. Press your forehead against the cool panes of glass, letting the heavy winter silence fill you as you gaze at nothing in particular.
ii.
Slip down to the kitchen, breathing in the lingering aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg while waiting for the mug of water to heat. Set the mug on the gleaming countertop, then extract a single tea bag from the dark depths of a cupboard. Drop the tea bag into the mug, listening for the gentle plop as it hits the steaming water and slowly sinks down. Watch as gentle tendrils of rich orange rise slowly from the depths of the mug, swirling into complex patterns before dissipating.
iii.
Dunk the tea bag slowly, reverently, as the colour and flavour spreads through the water. Brush a strand of hair out of your eyes as you inhale the distinctive odour, fingers of steam reaching up to frame your face. Lift the tea bag from the mug, relishing its waterlogged heaviness and the way the drips of tea forms perfectly circular ripples. Remove a silver spoon from the drawer; plunge it deep into the sugar bowl and marvel at the way the tiny crystals form mountains and valleys at your command. Add a heaping spoonful of sugar to the tea, stirring it in with broad circular strokes; listen to the faint melodic clinking of the spoon against the delicate china, and watch as the shimmering crystals disappear.
iv.
Wrap your hands around the mug and let its warmth spread to the palms of your hands then up your arms. Return to the window and greet the familiar vista of mountain-flaked suburbia; stately homes with perfectly groomed lawns and stark, bare-branched trees. Take a slow sip of the aromatic liquid, basking in the way it glides down your throat and leaves a perfect feeling of warm contentment behind; close your eyes and lose yourself in the unexpected bliss of the moment.