Abel looked at his reflection in the dark glassy surface of the cup of tea before him. It seemed to be calling to him. "Drink me! Drink me!" it said in entrancing tones, and Abel couldn't dare refuse it.
"Just a bit longer my dear, and I shall!" he thought, looking around frantically for the sugar bowl. Where had he put it? Cursing his forgetfulness, Abel began to search every cabinet in the room. It wasn't often that he had time to spend alone with his tea, and a dearth of sugar was not going ruin his perfect moment! Eventually, the sugar was found and Abel dashed frantically back to the side of his beautiful cup of tea. He poured in the milk, taking joy in watching the swirls it created.
"Oh, I should think there is nothing more beautiful than this, nothing at all!" thought Abel, now beginning to spoon in sugar cube after sugar cube. 9... 10... 11... 12... 13... 14... "There!"
Now grinning foolishly, Abel closed his eyes as he brought the gold rimmed cup to his lips. He inhaled deeply and let the warmth of the steam and the aroma bathe his nostril. He touched the cup to his lower lip. It was almost there. He could nearly taste. He began to the tip the cup back and-
"Father! There you are!"
Abel jumped. There was an almighty crash, and suddenly the tea was gone. Crashed to the ground and spilled on his face and robes. Abel looked down at his lost lover. He had killed her... She was not coming back.
"Father Abel, I am so sorry! Please let me-"
Abel raised his hand, silencing the young nun.
"Please Miss Esther," he said, his voice wavering. "Now is not the time for words."
