Genesis

Teacups

When I was little, there was this one family. The woman had hundreds of gorgeously detailed teacups, and on every Wednesday, for some reason the sun would shine brighter than heaven. The glories and happiness that sank with sorrows, drowning it, deep in my dark soul, that happiness floated to the tips of my very being, and I would be so excited as the happy, glowing woman would take out two teacups-with matching saucers- and take them out to the big field they had in their backyard, which was dotted with bunches of daisies we would pick before sitting down on a blanket under the warm spring sun, soaking in the brightness and the light, floating atmosphere. Thats the only was I could describe it, lying there, my head in her lap while weaving daisy crowns and thinking only happy thoughts.

Then, after a while, she would sit up and start setting up for a tea party, with cookies and sandwiches with the crusts cut off, because the crusts didn't look proper on the bread. It was like the crust of my being, never allowing the monsters inside me, wondering where they were and what their meaning was, out of me. I thought I didn't have a meaning. While outside in the sun, though, I felt as if I didn't need a meaning as long as I was content and worry- free out here in the cloud of daisies.

When we finished our cookies and proper crust less sandwiches, she poured the still-steaming hot tea into the pretty little teacups. It was a cool evening now, just before twilight when the birds were just starting to diminish their songs to just quiet hums, and the crickets began to chirp. we sipped our tea as the sun went down, the orange and pink streams of color painting the sky.

"Who paints the sky?" I would ask her one night, while sipping on my teal floral teacup, with the flowers on the inside of the cup peaking through as I drank the liquid that filled it.

"Oh, that would be Mother Nature's daughter, Cloudy. She would fly across the sky, the wind taking her across the whole earth, as she decorates the gloomy end of the day with fun, happy colors like pink and orange, because she hates the dull yellow from the last few minutes of light," She tells me softly, sipping her tea from a white teacup with yellow flowers decorating it.

"Who makes the fire dance?" I would say another night, as the fire we made on the chillier night flickered and crackled before us, burning the marshmallows we perched over it.

"Mother Nature's other daughter, Fire. She would dance around the light of the hot coals, and the burning coals loved the dances so much they decided to dance with her, creating orange and red and yellow, and once they opened up to the art of dancing, whenever you lit a fire, they would dance in the joy they had the potential to rise," she had murmured to me, while smudging a marshmallow onto a gram cracker.

Another night, we had been drawing pictures in a patch of dirt, and I had found a small sprout, with a small leaf blooming from it. "What makes the earth create new things?"

She looked down at me and smiled, the. Looked down at the plant, smoothing out the dirt surrounding it.

"Mother Nature's son, Earth. He had a love for mechanics and inventing, and he had always loved to imagine creating new life, life that could make the current life better, so his mother granted him the gift of having thousands of new life sprouting around. These new plants created many uses for the old life, and Earth's dream came true."

Then the last night of my staying at that home, we spent the night overlooking the ocean that was a few blocks from our home, and I saw the moon glistening across the surface.

"Why does the water reflect the moon?"

"Well, Mother Nature had a fourth son, and this son's name was Water. He fell in love with the moon, and wished for the ability to see its face every day, so when the moon came out at night, and faced the ocean, Water smiled at the moon and proclaimed his love, and the moon came down to the water to be with him, and so they still see each other every day. Their undying love living together every night in the face of the sea."

"I like your stories, they make me happy."

"When your happy, I'm happy, Gen Bug."

I always had kept her teal teacup with me to this day, even though it's not in one piece.