There was a coffee waiting there for the main protagonist i0n question.

Toward their lips they brought it to their face.

They could smell the heat and the aroma of the well-blended brew.
They knew that it was going to taste as good as, or even better than any coffee that had previously had.

Its rich, brown colour indicated finely mixed wi0th the right ammounts of coffee and water.

Would the taste be more on the coffee side of things?

Would it be a flavour tyhat our protaginist did not revcognise?

Would it be something that they did recognise, yet was so well-made that it would easily smash the competition into the fine bits so badly that this person would never be able top have coffee the same way again?

There were so many questions on the mind of our protagonist. So many thoughts about excitement and fear and the uncertainty, almost as though they were opening a door to a new world that they knew not and may struggle to navigate.

Still, at this point there was no turning back. Thankfully they knew that whatever may come, there was going to be something new in some way that they were going to now know.

They knew that as they brought the brew closer to their opening mouthy, ready to accept the delicious liquid contents of the coffee in their cup that it would become something unlike they had ever experienced and they knew that it would lead to something great, regardless of the trials and tribulations that may be brought upon them.

Drawing ever closer to their lips, the cup began to tilt just enough to ensure that it was ready to pour the caffeine beverage into their awaiting mouth, yet no so much as to spill and waste the contents, for that would be a horrible mistake of most grievous proportions and not one that they would easily be able to recover from, for they knew not if this coffee would ever be able to be made again and they knew not how to make it themselves, for it was borne from the hands of another artisan trained in the ways of making a coffee that they themselves knew not and may never know, for there are only so many seconds in the day and not enough time to know all there is about the expansive art of making a coffee.

At last, the cup had finally reached the mouth of our protagonist.

It was in prime pouring position.

Slowly, yet surely the fine liquid contents poured into the mouth of our protagonist, filling it with flavours mysterious yet familiar, letting them experience sensations most fantastic.

There was little abating, for the full flavour needed to be experienced as much as possible on as large a scale as possible.

Then, after that moment, the eyes of our protagonist widened as they came to a realisation.

Removing the cup from their mouth, they uttered a word in exclamation:

“TEA?!”

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 09:00:03

I had the idea to write something silly when near work and then I went through with said idea.

It’s okay.

Written at work.