Under the Whispering Door

know,” Hugo said. “And even if you did, I couldn’t give it to you yet. It needs time to steep, you see. Good tea is patience. It’s not about instant gratification, not like the bags with the little strings. Those can be fleeting, here and gone again before you know it. Tea like this makes you appreciate the effort you put into it. The more it steeps, the stronger the taste.”

If we worry about the little things all the time, we run the risk of missing the bigger things.”

It crawled from her chest, the monster of grief, trying to drag her down into the depths.