The
Mug - a short story |
| The
Mug - a short story |
|
Back
by popular demand is this short story from the last century. |
|
The room was cold and empty. Thick curtains hid the drab interior
from casual prying eyes. Perfect, I thought. I closed the green-painted
door behind me and turned the worn key in the lock. The bolt
slid home with a satisfying clack. Feeling behind me for the
light switches, I clicked them on one at a time with my empty
hand.. The room looked a little more inviting, but this didn't
matter. I hadn't come here for the scenery. The purpose of my
visit was altogether different. Balancing the brown-stained mug on top of the blue plastic container, I searched around for a scrap of used paper. "English Homewo...," it said. Someone had ripped the rest of the words off. The paper was already grubby, so I felt confident no one would want it again. I carefully placed the brimming mug on the paper and then snapped the top off the blue plastic. Hooking my foot around the chair leg I pulled it out, sat down, stretched my tired legs under the table and rested my scuffed feet on the chair opposite. Raising the rapidly-cooling mug to my lips I paused before sipping the hot, brown liquid. Mistake! My lips were just closing round the rim when the bell from hell rang. Before it had stopped the door flew open, banging against the wall. I looked at the bedraggled creature before me. Its shirt hung out, its laces undone. "Will you help me?" it said. I looked at the mug with its inviting contents and then back at the creature. "Of course, I will," I replied, trying to inject a note of enthusiasm into my voice, and reluctantly poured the brown liquid down the sink. Simon Midgley 1995 |
|
|
