Meaningless, in an instant.

At this very moment, a soggy old English teabag, is contemplating its life from the bottom of a plastic bin; when only a brief minute ago, it was brewing away inside a Styrofoam cup. Then, in a state of panic, the teabag was jiggled around and yanked up by its string, allowing only seconds to release the last of its flavour.

It was no longer considered tea by it’s owner; but rather just a bag, wet and dripping. There to be thrown to the trash, where it was destined to join the rotting banana peel inside.

Sitting there soaking, the teabag still felt warm. Soon it would grow cold, and possibly stick to a used tissue, or mutilated piece of gum. On the way down to the bin it managed to lose its Twinings tag, leaving just its string to wander through the rest of the rubbish, eventually strangling a Coke can.

The teabag felt royally alone. There wasn’t one single thing inside the bin, other than the teabag itself, that had the credentials to be appointed to the Queen.

‘What’s it all about? Life? Is that really it?’ the teabag shivered, yellowing in colour. ‘I was in that damn cup for merely a minute! Barely given a chance to strengthen the bloody flavour.’

The Styrofoam cup arrived soon after, and landed right beside the whinging English teabag. The cup was broken, and looked as though it had been chewed a little at the rim.

‘Well, I just want to die!’ leaked the teabag.

‘You will, eventually.’ announced the Styrofoam cup. ‘I’ll be here a very long time, languishing around landfills for the next 500 years or so.’

‘Fuck you.’ replied an environmentally friendly muesli wrapper.

There was no response from the teabag, now completely dry. Meaningless, in an instant.