Sunday, March 16, 2014


It is upside down whatever it is.  At first it appears to be a cardboard soup cup or a colored tin can, squat and round, nothing nice.  I almost don't go back to see what it is, but I do.  Whatever it is, it is soiled and I do not want to touch it; human excrement?  With the deft assertiveness exhibited only by those who are simple or mad, my right hand darts toward it and snatches it up.  It is hard and cold, neither cardboard nor tin, but ceramic.  It is a coffee cup.  I wonder what a coffee cup is doing on the side of the road.  Did a pedestrian, after draining it of its contents, then decide that it was burdensome to lug around?  Was it flung mercilessly from the passenger side window of a passing motorcar?  How much of its contents had been consumed by the driver of the motorcar before it was ripped from his non-steering hand and thrown from the window?  My head tilted slightly, I stare at the coffee cup curiously, then pocket it in my overcoat and walk on.

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