Certainly té de rosa de jamaica should not be mixed with gin. It seemed the most recent bout of depression left the house lacking both food and drink of all varieties. Who would notice such a crime against a perfectly delicate tea? Certainly not the visitors who never came, nor the old basset hound napping beneath the pearls strung across the coat hook. “How did those get there anyway?” I said, tripping over the dog and spilling a generous proportion of the satiating concoction as I reached for them.
**written for Winter Scavenger Hunt.**