The tea overflowed the cup and gushed over the edges of the saucer Marjan was holding. With a noisy clatter, she released the samovar’s lever… The commotion.. did not wake Father Mahoney from his own reverie. He was brewing softly over his abgusht, his round cheeks rosy and full of life. Marjan finished cleaning the spill tea and leaned against the counter, not wanting to disturb the priest. She understood exactly what was happening to Father Mahoney.
from Pomegranate Soup by Marsha Mehran (2005). Highly Recommended
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