Ode to a Mystery Tea

You were a mystery, given to me by a transient gamerĀ friend who, chances are, I will never see again. I never knew your season, year, or even factory, but you were smooth and sweet, free of pile smell, almost a little caramelized and earthy. Easy-brewing and comfortable, even sweeter and thicker in a mug or a pot than a gaiwan.

But you’re gone now, and I can only hope I one-day find a tea half as comforting.

A transgendered, tea-drinking, rock-hammer wielding, mineral-collecting, fashionable, mid-twenties Canadian.

1 Comment

  1. A mysterious yet noble tea.

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