The fog has coated the normally green grass white; an indication that winter has set in. With half-shut eyes, I fill up the black kettle switching it on. While I wait for the water to heat up, I prepare my other ingredients in my crimson red mug, a gift from two years ago.

“Qhaa” the kettle goes, and I know it’s ready.

The mixture turns a beautiful golden brown colour, as I add the creamy milk to the finish. With my fingers sprawled around the mug, I watch the sunrise through my kitchen window; my favourite part of the morning.

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