Sunday 17 August 2014

7) The Brave Little Teabag

Perry Graham Tips had always wanted to be coffee. It was an inexplicable dream. His parents Mr and Mrs P G Tips had birthed him and brought him up as a fine young tea bag. He was treated very well when growing up and had the finest tea leaves many had ever seen inside a tea bag. Yet he had a calling.

Like all tea bags, his life moved from factory, to shop and eventually he was adopted into a home. It was a lovely home; a Buzz Lightyear container with outspread green and purple wings. The lid was Buzz’s round helmet which was twisted off.

Perry Graham thrived in his new home, but the desire to become coffee did not fade. He was teased by the other tea bags for his dream. Yet there was one, Paulina Georgina Tips, who didn’t find his dream stupid. She wanted to become a Country Singer, but having no vocal chords meant this was an dream that could not be accomplished. Perry’s dream was a possibility. She told him of the coffee powder in the Woody container next to their home. The difficultly was getting there, given most of their days were spent locked in. It was not hopeful.

So Perry waited for the inevitable day he would be dropped into a mug of boiling water. Every time the lid opened and a fleshy hand grabbed one of his family, he felt a mixture of fear and excitement. Fear that it would be him, but excitement that there was a chance to make a break for it.

And one time there was. An unfamiliar hand entered their container, a guest maybe, and didn’t return the lid. This was Perry’s chance. He climbed to the top of the contained and peeked over the crest of Buzz Lightyear’s helmet. No one was about. Many mugs were placed on the counter; a coffee morning. And next to his home was the Woody container, cowboy hat off. Perry stretched out his corners and made a leap. He clipped the edge of the container and tumbled onto something soft and a little bit crunchy.

‘Hey wise guy, get offa me.’

The voice came from below Perry, he rolled over.

‘Now you’re on me you frube.’

No matter where Perry rolled someone complained. He eventually stopped rolling when he realised he was surrounded by little flakes of coffee.

‘Look at this tea bag. What’s he doing here. You lost kid?’

The coffee granules berated him until one sharply whistled. He jumped up and bounced across to Perry.

‘What’s up kid? Shouldn’t you be with the tea bags?’

‘I was, but I want to be coffee. I’ve always wanted to be coffee.’

The coffee granule leaned himself against Perry, a gesture that can be best likened to putting a hand on another’s shoulder.

‘I understand your desire to be like us, but you gotta understand we all have dreams. I want to be a leader of a gang of eighteenth century pick pockets. The problem is, we all have a purpose in life. I’m meant to be coffee and you’re meant to be tea.’

Perry Graham thought about this and sighed, letting the air out between the filters of his bag.

‘It’s time to go home kid,’ the coffee granule said, and fell to the ground.

The unfamiliar hand was back. It grabbed Perry Graham by his foot and lifted him up into the air. It was time to fulfil his destiny. He had no regrets because at least he had tried to become coffee. He saw the boiling mug under his head and smiled.


He was a damn good cup of tea.

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