Steep
(200 words)
The gurgling water swirled about him, and little bubbles tickled his back. A tangle of steam rose nonchalantly heavenward. The sweet smell of cinnamon and cloves hung thickly in the air overhead. The crispy air made a perfect partner for the hot bath, so he sank deeper into the water and sighed. His eyelids fluttered slowly, drowsily.
But what was this odd sensation? It felt as though his soul was seeping out of him; his purpose being tugged away by some mysterious soft force. He peeled both eyes open and looked at the warm water swirling around his strong, dark abdomen. He could scarcely see it.
Murky water rippled across his body. It was dark as syrup, and he suddenly realized it had grown much cooler. He leapt up as the dark water rolled off in tiny streams. Dizzily he spun. His vision grew blotchy, then cut out.
When he came to, he was sprawled in the middle of a dump. The sour smell of milk wafted over from somewhere much too close. A mountain of coffee grounds rose dejectedly to the side. He was cold, pale, and weak. Like a meteorite, a crumpled chip bag crashed upon him.
END
All of my other friends would have written scandalous stories where the teabag was a verb.
Easy peasy .. nice example of anthropomorphism