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Fiction

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

I always have my tea at two.At two I have my tea. I reminded myself of this for eighty years. Then Edwin died, and I had to have tea by myself. I was tired of having my tea at two, by myself.

I walked out the door of my home, for the seventh time this week, to " Sweet Tea" about five short blocks away. It was Saturday today. I liked it there, because there was nowhere to sit, for tea. I always seemed, to have such lovely conversations there. Once this week, a conversation with a mother of six. Goodness six children. I had none. But Edwin and I indulged each other as children, when he was alive. This was my private marriage of sixty two years. Another time a young man asked me for five dollars, he had a cup of coffee but needed to get home on the bus. I obliged him, of course,poor thing. Not having even five dollars in his pocket.Edwin and I both loved each other. He worked hard. We had some savings, that I never ever would spend without him. That was my business, I have a knack for getting others to talk you know. People who can't converse, well, I'm sorry for them. I would of been a super hairdresser. Could of kept the clients talking about themselves, while I cut and permed and dyed thier hair. I cut my Edwins hair, you know. I got pretty good at it too. I guess after sixty two years. Goodness ,I'm not sure how many haircuts I actually did. That was our personal things,like, that his wife cut his hair. I always have done my own too.

When I arrived at the tea shop I was pleased that there were no seats available, but two. I grabbed my Chai tea. I never have Chai tea at home, you know. Just plain orange pekoe tea. With cream and sugar.

One seat was with a gentleman my age, he had a coffee, I knew it was coffee, because tea came in a fancier cup,at "Sweet Tea". Another closer seat was with a young woman, with rings in her face. I had never spoken to a person with rings in thier face. She sat still writing in a book. What an exceptionally interesting day I would have at my tea time today , if I sat with her. So I chose her. I asked her, if I could sit down with her. She shook her head yes and sort of smiled at me. I asked her about her mint tea. She drank mint tea, for weight loss ,and with no sugar, and said she took cinnamon capsules, 500 milligrams for the same reason. I told her she had nothing to worry about,and not to worry too much about her weight.

I asked her what she was writing, and expressed her concern for being " ripped off".

I had never been stolen from before. What a tragedy for this poor girl, that someone had taken her for granted. She was writing a poem about it. I asked her what it was about. Was it about her recent thieft of , I'm assuming, some sort of close personal property loss?

She lifted her head and said to me, " I write

Rap" my goodness , my Edwin played the spoons. I explained to this, lip, brow, nose peirced, rap girl.

What an exciting tea I was having today with this sweet colorful girl. So I said to her, to read a couple of lines.

She agreed and started like this "I am woman who was handpicked, for my ability to steal, I pillage I plunder,I make the big deal".

I thought, what a strange poem to start, but asked for the next line. It went like this, "I am the woman who was coveted to hold hostages, I reap the country, of billionaires and thier losses". She was such an interesting girl. I asked her, if she was a natural blonde? I knew the blue and pink weren't natural, I know these kind of things. What a superb mix of exilleration, crossed with confusion I had for this girl. Of course I needed to know the next line, " I am the woman who secretly conspires, I am the loved,elite company of liars".

I started to get a little uncomfortable about her poem writing, because I couldn't decide if it was, what she was, or not? So I asked for one more line, she wrote this."I am the woman that torments that other, I am the woman that horrifies my mother".

Another one please, I had said to her. She told me another line, and it went like this,"I am the woman who never gets lost,I don't earn my money, I cost".

Gee,whiz what a splendid poem, I told her this. She told me of a rip off, by the person who made the money, her lip curled at the top, when she said rip. The woman who earned the money ripped us off she told me. She said it kind of like she was almost mad at me. I assured her that I wouldn't touch her things. I had never heard of such a thing. You believe that everyone is a good person when you hit my age. You know.

Then she told me she had six different names at the bank. That all of these bank accounts, were with alot of money in them. Then she said to me, I looked rich and ,why don't I leave now because my tea was done. Well, it was 3:45 by then and I wished her a good day, and hoped she didn't get taken from again. She never said goodbye, just wrote in her book. I backed up from the table and looked at this young woman.She seemed so sad for her losses. All ten minutes of walking up those short blocks, I missed my tea at two with Edwin. I wondered how a girl like her could be taken advantage of. Those people must be rude. Goodness, people just don't always know what a person has, in it for them. I must drink my tea at home tomorrow.

January 08, 2022 11:26

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2 comments

Charlie Murphy
20:29 Jan 18, 2022

Great story! I liked the old lady.

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Jennifer Dowdell
22:17 Jan 15, 2022

I really enjoyed your story. It was quite delightful. It drew me in.

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