A Mug Without A Name

For so many days, it was on the table. Everyday, the children, their mother and their father, and guests were sitting near it. They were eating dinner from the table but nobody touched it, everybody was living like it wasn’t there. The first days, it did not care about this. It believed that two days later, maybe three day later, someone would take it. It waited for the fourth day and the fifth day. The sixth day, the youngest child tried to touch it but she was not tall enough to reach it. She cried: ” Motheeeer!” and went back to her mother’s side. The first days, it was upset and lonely but after a while it got used to it. It was thinking that at least it was not in a bin where cats could come to it at night. From the side, it was watching people. When it saw a TV show about glass art, it liked watching them. When the teenage boy argued with his parents, it was feeling peaceless. Until the light on the table was turned off, life went on for it. It felt a bit retired but what was it? It had even forgotten itself!

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