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Lois Lane Has Nothing On Me

Writer's Block? Tea.

Writer's Block? Tea.

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with the doctor.  the third one.
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Every time I log into check my so-called 'friends page,' LiveJournal offers me writing prompts, something I find delightfully ironic, considering my profession. Perhaps even more ironic is the fact that, well, I'm about to make use of one of those prompts.

I rarely write for pleasure anymore, it's the curse of deadlines and relying on the written word as a source of income. The truth is, I haven't written a single word that wasn't aimed at a specific task since adopting Luke, and that's something I find to be unacceptable. I can find twenty minutes in a day to clear my mind or answer a ridiculous prompt from those who run LiveJournal. It's good for me, and what's more, I suspect it will make it that much easier to finish the damn book.

The prompt issued by the LiveJournal Gods today is this:
What is your favorite smell? What does it remind you of?

It was a long time before I began to notice scents the way I do sights, sounds, and more tactile things. When a person travels with The Doctor, there is simply too much to take in to notice everything sometimes. That changed on a little planet in one of the Antennae galaxies. If I'd gotten my way, we'd never have found ourselves there at all, but The Doctor insisted on a short stop between Zeta Minor and London.

Thousands of years in the future wandering through an astoundingly rural marketplace, I discovered what is perhaps the greatest creation in humankind's history: lacmeiohm tea. Made from a blend of about thirty different herbs and teas, none of which have been cultivated on this planet, there's simply nothing to compare it to.

To smell it is to taste it, and it's somehow light and rich at the same time. It's spicy but not in the way that spiced teas here on Earth are spicy-- not in the way anything here on Earth is spicy, really. On one sip I could have sworn I tasted citrus, but on the next any trace of citrus was gone, replaced by something far more complex. I traded a nicked sonic screwdriver for enough of it that I only ran out in 1982.

Lacmeiohm reminds me of travel, of youth, of freedom. It's comfort and familiarity in a world that's unbelievably foreign, a reminder that for all that the world changes, there are little comforts that remain timeless. A cup of tea, such a simple thing, but to find it lightyears away on a world I'll never see again-- a world no one on Earth has ever seen-- it's timeless, really.

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