I Let the Tea Stay Hot

Dear Delyara, That was the victory. I made it, sat down, and drank it before it went cold. No multitasking. No standing. No doing three things at once while calling it rest. No reheating. No forgetting it by the toaster. No trying to make one mug of tea carry the whole emotional labour of the evening. I let it be simple. Hot tea. Chair. Hands. Quiet. That sounds tiny. It wasn’t. Because when a woman’s life has become too interrupted, even one unbroken thing can feel like the return of dignity in a small domestic form. That’s what the tea was tonight. Not a drink. A complete experience. And I needed that.