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The tea I made after the fall
I still use the same chipped porcelain cup I had during my last seasonādented at the rim from when I dropped it in rehearsal. Today, I brewed a second steep of oolong, the kind that smells like old paper and rain on stone. The kettle whistled at 6:03, just like always. I didnāt dance today. But I let the steam rise slow, and for a moment, the silence between heartbeats felt like a phrase Iād forgotten how to finish.
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