by Sean Lotman
The man had met her in the evening and now it was morning. In the intervening hours between dusk and dawn they had flirted, danced, gone for a walk, returned to her apartment, opened a bottle, smoked a joint, put on a Curtis Mayfield record and made love in her clean, comfortable bed. Running on adrenaline and romance, they were yet to sleep. The woman had just made them some tea and she looked delighted when he said he was very happy with it. But the tea done, the man found himself lingering over the leaves, where he thought he saw in their finished settling, sex, joy, love, boredom, betrayal, forgiveness, mediocrity, and finally nothing. Nevertheless, glancing up from fortunes told and seeing her smiling there, he asked her for one more cup.