‘How does your tea taste like?’, he asked me. He was playing with his cup, rubbing it, slowly moving it or sometimes just touching it. I could sense flurry of words building in his brains yet losing it’s voice when he tried to utter. Staring out of the window, absentmindedly I replied, ‘it’s sweet’. Probably he wanted to ask me about my post-break up life or simply tea, but either way, I was telling the truth.

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