Older now. The same eyes. A different kind of silence.
She placed the pocketwatch on the counter. Its hands moved slowly, backward.
“The past isn’t what I wanted.”
“It never is.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
I served her Hourleaf Steep. It only finishes steeping when the drinker is ready to let go.
She never drank it.
She smiled, placed the cup back, and said:
“Next time, don’t let me order.”
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