Chamomile Tea

It was once a daily ritual I looked forward to.

Like a Pavlovian dog, the chamomile scent from the kitchen always induced a sense of relaxation, no matter how stressful the day had been. Sitting in my Hepplewhite armchair, my clothes still covered in dust and blood, it took only a few sips for my heart to stop racing and my mind to be wiped clean of the raging torrent of anxieties and self-recrimations that normally plagued me.

Now it was the most agitated moment of my routine, wondering if today was the day she had decided to poison me.