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Weekly Contest #339
The snow began three days ago, but only now did we realize we might not leave. I sipped my tea, the mug burning my palms—a small, familiar comfort. The Earl Grey—bergamot, lavender—reminded me of meeting Damien. Oh, is this yours? I think I might have ordered the same. You have good taste. We’d both ordered the same drink at the coffee shop, each reaching for it as it was called out. His smirk, my awkward laugh. The warmth in his eyes, much like the mug in my hands. I pushed the thought out of my mind. That was a long time ago. I watched fro...
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