My heart sunk. I knew in that moment that the last grains had been mercilessly boiled, and drank the previous evening. What a terrible sister! As an avid morning tea drinker I had forgotten all about the coffee that my brother craved to kick start his day. His messy hair seemed to stand up in spikes of rising accusation. His face turned grey . He looked as if he wanted to take the word coffee and slice the ending off (coff…. ee,) to replace it with coffin. Mine. He began pacing to and fro, and then in one swift movement, he grabbed a cigarette, and made for the door. He tried to open this exit way barring his escape but it was locked. Oops. His turned back to me, eyes wild with fury. I rushed to get the key. I opened it. He slammed the door behind him. But if looks could kill I’d be dead. Past tense. Finito.