Staring at Steam

Isabelle sat on the balcony, waiting. She zipped her jacket as the winds started to come through. Finally Nesrin came out and handed her a mug of simmering water. Nesrin, holding a steaming mug of her own, sat down in the chair beside her.

Isabelle looked at the mug. It was the one with the mosaic pattern she always used. She smelled the steam. Apparently it was literally plain water. She waited for further instructions. None came.

“Now what?”

“Now we just watch the steam rise.”

Isabelle did so for a few seconds. “And this is how you meditate?”

“Pretty much.”

Isabelle returned her focus to the steam. “Chido.”

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