Red Cup
Edward Mycue
Advancing toward me was a red cup marching through the air and held in the grip of Mary’s hand punching forward at me.  I hadn’t done zit to her beside saying her friend Melina was rotten.  It was her Christmas red cup with white and green diagonally striped candy canes each of the six with white bows, her favorite kind of cup that looked thick but was light.

Not a cup really but a mug brightly glazed from Germany from a whipped cream pottery clay called Waechtersbach.  Mary had only once bought one full price, but would find them in thrift stores -- Salvation Army, Goodwill, Out-of-the-Closet –- and only when there were no chips in the glaze.  They glazed easily.  So I knew she was mad to endanger her precious cup.  I waffled about Melina then and she brought it down.

First published: February, 2014
© All rights reserved by the writer
comments to the writer: