EFFIE BATEMAN | Lifestyle | Contact
As she goes to wash some vegetables in the kitchen sink, local woman Rhea Ulman finds herself inhaling a deep breath.
He’s fucking done it again. Her lovely, wonderful, thoughtful husband has left his soggy wet tea bag in the sink. And by the looks of the wilting edges, it’s been in there for a few hours now.
This is not the first time he’s done it. In fact, Rhea will occasionally find multiple of them sitting upright in the sink, knowing he must have carefully dangled them by a string and placed them gently onto the surface – sometimes, the strings will entwine, causing the teabags to spin around like whirling dervishes as she attempts to catch the cold, pungent drops of tannin onto a plate.
It doesn’t matter that she’s only told him a thousand times to put them in the fucking bin. It was so ‘he didn’t drop tea on the floor.”
Torn between throwing out his beloved Twinings out completely or seeking some petty revenge, Rhea makes a promise to herself that he gets one more chance, otherwise he’s a copping one in his work boots.
More to come.
