83

I’m burning through my tin of this stuff awfully quickly. I stare into the tea cabinet and wonder what to brew, and I never think I want the Singapore Breakfast. Then I smell the vanilla, and it’s over. The blend of green and black teas is even and surprisingly stout, and the vanilla on top makes it sing. Now the indoor respite is perfect. Look at those poor fools outside the window, tromping through the old snow. Nah nah nee boo boo.

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