
a vessel of memories.
I asked my friend: “do you remember when I bought this at Publix?”
This thing has been from Florida to California to Pennsylvania, Missouri, Illinois, Kentucky, Alabama, Tennessee and Georgia.

It is a very well-traveled cup. It sat on my desk during the drafting of my first book, guided me to the ice rink in the twinkling hours of golden dawn, rested upside down in my hospital bed yet never spilled.
It’s been spiked, it’s been dropped, careened down a hallway as I was trying to emulate a Formula 1 driver – drifting turns, flew across the continent and has concealed just a tad of rum on occasion.

My teeth have worn the curved edge of the drinking lip – years of bumping into my incisors during a mishandled sip. Two small indentations. My mark.
A cup. Just a simple coffee mug. A vessel of memories.
As well as some damn good coffee 💕
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