Sampling the Forbidden

In the following guest post, our newest judge, Zoë Whittall, shares a short story that was originally published in The Inkwell.

The steam rose in a fragrant twist, dancing away from the smooth rim of the cup and into the chilled air. Up, up it floated, propelled by its weightlessness. It stretched up to the roof, curled around the spears of ice dangling there, and spun, invisible, up to the stars. The child had watched its journey, as far as was possible, before the steam cloud merged with the cold air of the night. The child sighed contentedly, searched in the cup for the next small billow of steam to make the journey from the warmth of the mug into the wintry unknown of the night.

The steam held a secret interest for the child, for it was evidence of her disobedience. As she breathed in the strong smell, she heard her mother’s voice in her head, telling her that she was not to drink the coffee, it would stunt her growth. The fact that it was forbidden only fuelled the child’s curiosity, strengthened her need to discover it. The strong taste of coffee was just one of the many forbidden sensations of the child’s world. She had taken the cup from inside the house, where someone had carelessly left it on a table, just within her reach. Had stolen out of the back door, the mug cradled to her chest, the secret kept concealed from prying adult eyes. Now, she gazed at it with wonder, breathed in the bitter yet tantalizing scent of it, and wondered if the mysterious black liquid was really so dangerous, so powerful, as to keep her from growing tall.

She had been sitting with the mug, gazing into its depths, for a long while now. To her, the moment spent with the mug seemed like an eternity filled with both the temptation of the unknown and the fear of discovery. Her ears had become attuned to every sound coming from the house, and she was ready to flee with her treasure at the first sign of any imposing steps that might dare to interrupt this moment. The girl took a breath, preparing herself for the sip that would carry her to the point of no return. She knew that this sip at once would destroy the curiosity she had for the drink and fulfil her need to taste it. She watched one more wisp of steam make the journey from mug to sky, then lifted the steaming drink to her lips and, cautiously, yearningly, sipped. She held the sip in her mouth for a while, letting the taste roll in waves over her tongue. Bitter, from the beans, yet sweet, from the sugar someone had stirred into the mug. Then there was the comforting creaminess of the milk, which contrasted pleasantly with the boldness of the brew. The child swallowed, then set the mug down and sighed. She heard an adult voice, piercing in the still night air, calling her name. She smiled into the last of the rising steam.

——

Zoë Whittall is a private English language and writing tutor, with experience in academic editing. Her work has been featured in various publications, including The Inkwell, The Mercury News, and Adventure World Magazine.

This story, Sampling the Forbidden, is the first piece Zoë published.

Originally from California, she moved to Edinburgh, Scotland to complete a Master’s in English Literature. She lived in Mozambique for six years working as a horseback safari guide. She is now teaching part-time and working towards completing a Master of Information Science.

When not working or studying, she loves reading, endurance horse riding, backpacking, hiking, running, skiing, climbing, or doing most anything outside.