Tea time

I cradled the tea, cherished it like a long lost friend, my numb fingers draining its warmth.
It was one of those days we call February and I had made the mistake of going outside.
Hunched in the cold wind, I trudged through the snow.
For what? A play!
The walk had taken longer than anticipated and the play was just about to start when the warmth of the theatre finally embraced me.
I quietly slipped into my seat, my eyes settling on the stage.
Once the queen of the night had fallen to her doom, I had to face my own frozen hell again.
Darkness engulfed me. Streetlights vanished behind swirling snow. The biting frost, gnawing like a dog on a bone.
Somehow I made it back home. Sparked a fire, put the kettle on, and poured myself a steaming cup of tea.