She woke up smilingly from a relaxing siesta as he kissed her softly and said the three magic words – “Tea is ready.”
Sitting in the veranda, silently they sipped the hot tea and looked at the rain dancing in their little garden outside.
The End.
Or so it begins. Again. The non-pursuit of happiness.
Life. Tea. Rain.
Sunday Siestas.
Being.
“To be concerned for one’s happiness is the surest way of becoming unhappy.” (The Mother, CWM, 14: 181)
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