a mug rests gently on a glass coffee table
it is ceramic and a sort of beige off white color and slightly misshapen from previously being a clay creation, but it's perfect
overflowing, of course, it creates a ring of chocolate on the table
the boy picks it up effortlessly and presses it gently against his lips
the cocoa, now a sort of lukewarm temperature, intertwines itself into his upper lip before it enters his body
it is a cold winter day, the kind where you take emergency snow routes and hear the chilling wind rattling softly against the windows, so it warms him perfectly
he sets it down and leans back against the couch with a smile on his face
the mug, even overflowing and stained, is useful
it's his mug, so he will always cherish it
when he drinks all of it, he will always hand wash it with care and place it carefully in the cabinet to join the others,
yet he still only pulls that mug out in particular
he has many options,
but he will prefer that mug
even though it is misshapen and even though it spills so easily
it is and always will be his favorite
one day the mug will collect dust when he isn't around,
but they both will rest peacefully forever in that house
