The People Who Drink Tea | A Cup While Waiting
The watch on my wrist ticks softly.
A message appears on my phone:
“Sorry, I’ll be a little late!”
“It’s okay. Take your time — stay safe.”
I wander through the department store,
passing by boutiques and the food court,
until I find myself in a bookstore.
I stroll through the bestseller section,
picking up a few interesting titles,
flipping through pages,
trying to understand what people are drawn to these days.
Sometimes,
we are not choosing books —
the books are choosing us.
The connection comes lightly,
yet it lingers.
I pause where I feel something,
opening books as if meeting them by chance.
Sometimes,
a single sentence echoes in my heart
long after I leave the store.
Other times,
a book cover alone
can quietly move me —
and I find myself admiring the designer behind it.
“I’m almost there!”
The message pops up again.
I send a sticker in reply
and prepare to leave.
I glance once more
at the book that still lingers in my mind.
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Out of gratitude —
and not knowing which line might stay with me in the future —
I decide to take it home,
placing it on my shelf,
waiting for the right moment
to open it again.
After leaving the bookstore,
I pass by a drink shop.
“I’ll get us something to drink. What would you like?”
There’s no reply —
perhaps they’re rushing to catch a ride.
So I stand in front of the menu,
ordering what I know we both like.
They arrive,
slightly out of breath,
with a hint of guilt in their voice.
“Sorry!”
I squint a little,
then smile,
handing over the drink.
“Here — have this. It’s hot today.”
They take it gratefully.
“You already bought something?”
I glance at my bag.
“Yeah… some book treasures.”
“I’ll carry it for you.”
“Okay.”
Sometimes,
what a cup of tea carries forward
is a quiet, beautiful encounter.
