A Cup of Green Tea

Maybe it was because of how palliative it felt as he took a sip from his tea cup, one spring afternoon, with the vast scenery of blooming carnations by his lawn; or was it because of that sudden disturbance of an unknown woman in front of his porch—he did not know. Yet he could recall clearly, how her polite way of speaking caught him in his stupor, how her voice reflected pure innocence, with that simple inquiry for directions. It took him almost a minute or two before he could shakily point his finger across the street, towards town. Oh, how pathetic had he acted, he could only slap himself mentally on the face. In the end, he only managed a small, sly smile. She smiled back, along with the rejuvenating scent of green tea enveloping them in that brief moment.