Start your story with someone making a cup of tea — either for themself or for someone else.

Posted in Fluff on Oct 25, 2022

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✍️ 171 stories

“Possessed By The King” by Traven Garcia

Submitted to Contest #128

It was no ordinary day in the kingdom of Avalon, the council of Battle was sitting in the war room preparing for the worst war in their century as the kingdom of Alavandar tried to invade them. The king sat at the head of the war table looking over scroll after scroll trying to find some way to stop this war before it got any worse than it already had. His manservant to his right turned to him, "Would you like some tea, M'lord?" He asked quizzically. The king turned to his manservant and smiled a tired smile at him, "Yes, that would be nice ...

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“Tea For Two” by Rob Ryter

Submitted to Contest #128

High Tea The picture of bored indifference, completely unaware she was slowly grinding Aanshu into the dirt, Athaline sat splendidly, waiting. One twelve-hour day at a time, slogging on through endless, back-breaking labour, an infinite, dark tunnel, Aanshu dared allow herself no hope of escape. Ironically, Athaline felt the same about her own existence. Living through one day, again and again, nothing to pin her hopes on, no random surprises, just on and on. In the orangery’s afternoon splendour, sun slanting through the greenhouse panes...

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“The Small Things ” by Veda Vivek💎

Submitted to Contest #128

My hands shook as I lifted up the kettle. The smell of jasmine tea hit me in strong waves, somewhat soothing my nerves. I placed the kettle on the mat I carefully placed on the wooden table, taking out biscuits and scones, as well as strawberry jam. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I opened the drawer containing my mother’s handpainted teacups. I gingerly held them, remembering her laughs as she painted, teasing me as I tried to replicate it. I smiled softly, putting them down as I filled it with the tea. The sounds of the crashing waves ...

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“The sheep's clothing has wrinkles” by Ruth Zschoche

Submitted to Contest #128

“Tea?”The speaker was a petite, compact woman. Her smile was red and wet. Her teeth white and small. The wrinkles on her face reminded Tin of a crumpled paper bag. The old woman held the pot over the teacup. The pot shook ever so slightly.Tin grimaced and rubbed her left arm.“You should really put that down,” said Tin. “You’re gonna drop it.”The woman slowly lowered the pot to the table. It was small and crimson. It glimmered in the low glow of the kitchen stove light. The bulb over the table was dim as well, and flickering slowly. The flash...

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“Cobalt Dreams ” by Lori C

Submitted to Contest #128

I stood watching the back of the stranger as he placed a kettle on the tiny electric stove.“Do you like tea?” He asked without turning around, already pulling open a drawer and rifling through a noisy collection of pots, plates, and silverware.I didn’t answer and the ship’s ambient sounds filled the silence between us. Weeks adrift in the Fringe had separated my mind from my body. The man’s jolly whistle, the ship’s dull hum, and the clattering of utensils all seemed like echoes in a waking dream.“Ah, here it is. Chamomile tea. Have you had ...

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“Spilled Tea” by Bob Faszczewski

Submitted to Contest #128

Spilled Tea As Cassie brewed the cup of tea she reflected on how the comfort and peace of her current retired life at “the Shore” contrasted with her past life. The feeling of the...

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“Ledrith's Remorse” by Jason Grimberg

Submitted to Contest #128

Warning: This story contains attempted rape, physical violence, and murder. The smell of the herbs hung thick in the air, far too potent to be considered pleasant, as the pestle pounded and ground down into the mortar. Of course, a potent smell for this particular brew was a good thing. Medicinal tea may not have been something anyone liked to sip on, but when it would soothe the throat, fight a fever, and aid in sleep, an ill patient would gulp it down like a pint normally. The young apprentice, Ledrith, had been training ...

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“Crisis and Chamomile” by T.M. Navarro

Submitted to Contest #128

The kettle squealed, but it was soundless against the thunder. The house groaned and shuddered. The cookie jar jumped, scooting closer to the edge, and it's little lid clinked against the edges, spiralling shut. Water leaped out of the vase, browned with time, and the dead lilies swung around, their brittle, dead stem splintering upon impact. Thunder rocked the house again. Grandma wasn't bothered. She stirred honey into those two cups of tea, steam twisting and twirling upwards, the scent inviting a sense of calm to set...

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“Early Hours” by Pat Edinger

Submitted to Contest #128

I maneuver my way around the countertop, scouring its marble surface for a very basic thing, a form of tea. I stop and turn, almost knocking over a dish rack and busting all of the plates and cups suspended and drying. I panic and dash forwards and catch the collapsing rack. It’s around five o’clock in the morning and, to clarify, I am not a morning person. And so this, this half asleep, confused, and groggy state; it’s normal for me this early in the morning. But then again, that's only because I haven’t had my tea yet. Some prefer the ugly...

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“Ripples in the Mug” by Sage Henry

Submitted to Contest #128

I stared into the blue mug in front of me, watching as ripples emerged from the edges. Each one moved through the dark tea, splashing little droplets across the inside. I wanted to be listening, really I did. But I couldn’t seem to pay attention to what he was saying. The mug held me captive, its contents stealing my attention. I tried to focus on something, but the ripples were all that I could manage. They were calmer than he was. Easy, consistent, even though their waves broke open against the porcelain mug. More would always be there to ...

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“Home Help” by Ann Martin

Submitted to Contest #128

HOME HELP Ann Martin Trigger Warning: Self-harm By the time Ellie went to make them a cup of tea, Marian knew she would get the job. Interview? Hardly. Two strangers talking through tears. It was hardly a job either. Ssix hours a week light housework. But it would serve its purpose, which was to give her something to think about, something to pour into the emptiness. A quick scan of the room while Ellie Roberts was in the kitchen told Marian a lot. Furniture good, but shabby. Carpet ditto and with the kind of indelible stains that come wi...

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“Tea with Her” by Keinyn Hudson

Submitted to Contest #128

The rain is pouring down, thundering on the metal roof of the shack. Gazing with concern out of the fogged up window, the man watches the rain drops collect on the glass. One by one they combine, till their weight suddenly pulls them down in urgent rivulets. ‘She should be back by now’, he thinks to himself. He doesn’t seem to notice as an airy whistle begins to sound. As the whistle sharply rises to a shrill scream he shakes himself out of his thoughts. Standing up with a groan, he feels his knees pop; this da...

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“Bittersweet” by Rafael Whiterock

Submitted to Contest #128

She closes the door quickly on her way in so only a little of the cold October air will make its way inside. The dull ache in her knees doesn’t surprise her, seeing as she had spent quite a while crouched in the chill of the garden. ‘Now it will all be worth it’, she thinks and makes her way to the stove with her treasures clutched in hand. The pot of water was already at a boil, so she takes it off the hot surface. One by one she adds the herbs into a muslin bag: fresh Lemon Balm leaves to help her fatigue; Lemongrass stalks for her digesti...

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“His Nightly Tea” by Christopher Linehan

Submitted to Contest #128

The sound began, whining, hissing, cutting through the air with sharp, jagged notes – the record spinning, his head spinning, the world spinning. This was the beginning of his nightly ritual. His tea kettle began to sound in unison with the spinning world, the water ready for transmogrification. As Midge Ure began to wail over the synthesizers he realized that he neither wanted to dance nor to weep over a life gone by. He returned to the ancient phonograph, desperate to stop living out the memory of love that died. Thumbing through a stack...

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“Tea Regulation” by Joyce Hightower

Submitted to Contest #128

The Tea regulation Charity fumbled trying to put the key in her apartment door lock. The dark hallway, her gloved hands as well as the folders and books in her arms made it more difficult than usual. As soon as she was able to slip the key in track, she opened the door and quickly slipped inside. With a deep sigh, she relocked it and dumped the armful on the table. She hurried into the small kitchen and turned the stove burner on high beneath the water kettle. Retracing her steps, she unbuttoned her coat and flung it over the back...

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Start your story with someone making a cup of tea — either for themself or for someone else.

Submissions are closed

✍️ 171 stories

“Possessed By The King” by Traven Garcia

“Tea For Two” by Rob Ryter

“The Small Things ” by Veda Vivek💎

“The sheep's clothing has wrinkles” by Ruth Zschoche

“Cobalt Dreams ” by Lori C

“Spilled Tea” by Bob Faszczewski

“Ledrith's Remorse” by Jason Grimberg

“Crisis and Chamomile” by T.M. Navarro

“Early Hours” by Pat Edinger

“Ripples in the Mug” by Sage Henry

“Home Help” by Ann Martin

“Tea with Her” by Keinyn Hudson

“Bittersweet” by Rafael Whiterock

“His Nightly Tea” by Christopher Linehan

“Tea Regulation” by Joyce Hightower

🌟 Similar prompts

Set your story in a tea house.

Write a story about a tea party that your character is reluctant to go to.

Write about a character who’s dying to “spill the tea” (gossip) about something.

Write a story about a conflict that breaks out over something ordinary (like tea, perhaps).

Contest #128

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

298

Contest entries

160

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

Explore more writing prompt ideas: