Our group used to go to a tea shop every week, and we’d share a pitcher of tea.
Earl Grey one week, Oolong blend the next.
Something different every week.
Then, Joe died. We’d set out an empty cup for him.
After Penny died, we set out an empty cup for her, too.
When Monica, Olive, and Dan died, we set out empty cups for them.
Soon, it was just me, going to the tea shop, drinking an entire pot of tea by myself.
Surrounded by empty cups.
Nobody ever comes over to sit with me.
So, I read quietly.