THE TRUTH ABOUT BEING SOMEONE’S SOULMATE

Lisa Dearlove

With shaking hands, Brenda stirred her cup of tea. Milky with two sugars. Just like she has always drunk it. She gingerly took a sip and put her cup down on the kitchen table. 
         ‘It just doesn’t taste right,’ she muttered to herself, shaking her head, and standing up with creaking bones. 
         Brenda hobbled her way back to the kettle, boiling fresh water, hoping that would fix the taste. She then grabbed herself a new cup, white with daisies painted on its front, and made herself another tea. 
         Once the tea was made, Brenda allowed it to cool for just a few seconds before she took a sip to see if this one tasted any better. It did not, so she discarded the daisy cup with its friend on the kitchen table.
         Brenda repeated this process again and again, making a cup of tea, changing the recipe slightly and abandoning it on the kitchen table. She did this until she had a single cup left in her cupboard. She grabbed it and gently ran her thumb over the faded design. 
         Brenda had tried to throw the cup away a couple of years ago, but her husband David insisted that they should keep it, just in case they ever ran out. At the time she laughed at the absurdity but today she was glad to see it. 
         Giving up on her desire for a good cup of tea, Brenda made herself a cup of instant coffee instead. She picked up the cup and brought it with her to the living room where she sat in an armchair, facing the TV which was showing her favourite shopping channel.
         To her right sat a small coffee table with wooden coasters, spare change, and a golden picture frame. She picked the frame up and placed a small kiss on the glass, before she put it back down in a position that would give the perfect view of David’s beaming face.
         Brenda took a sip of her coffee and smiled at her husband. ‘You always did make the best cup of teas, my love.’