A Pinch of Thyme

My hands were trembling with midday caffeine jitters, so I hauled myself up to the wide wooden ledge by the sink. *Tick-snick!* My neck gave an erratic jerk, and my foot accidentally kicked an empty tea tin with a hollow bong! Deep breath, Sally. Right in front of me sat a tiny potted thyme plant, its miniature green leaves wild and overgrown. I reached out, pinched off a couple of unruly dry sprigs between my plastic fingertips, and tucked them into a tiny ceramic thimble beside the saucer. The rich herbal scent immediately cut through the static in my buzzing head.