Quietness has a creepy way of making us feel lonelier than we are. But this wine glass was truly alone tonight. No other kinds were in the sink that was once full of day-long dirty dishes. If it accidentally loses balance and falls, it might not break completely but will feel the cracks of loneliness. There was once a time when all the dishes were showered together with four silly hands. One pair, a bit rough from the everyday washing and cleaning. While the other is always warm, even in cold water. But nothing lasts forever. The hard lessons must be learned in this life; no one gets to rush through them. The slow pain of reliving every moment, every joke, every setback is what really kills us every day, not just loneliness. Yet, tonight the wine glass stands tall, trying not to let anyone see how empty and isolated it feels in the depths of steel constraints.
The chilly breeze outside has no way of getting indoors. All doors and windows have been shut tight. Because sometimes, even a gentle breeze can be noisy. Even though the wine glass is alone, it cannot stand the voices, so shutting them out is the only way to survive.
The night will finally vanish into the quiet of the morning greys. There will be more joining in soon. Old coffee mug with deep stains that even the dishwasher cannot cut through. Cereal bowls will announce their presence with a loud bang. They are mostly new because little ones keep breaking them. These colorful bowls will add to the stickiness and smell of sugar. And finally, the wine glass will not need to smell its charred stench. The cereal bowls are always just around.
The chill of the water and the comfort of her hands will nurture them into another day of duties. The wine glass will need to handle all other tasks by herself. Because her best wine glass broke just over a year ago, leaving her behind to wash the sticky bowls and tiny plates by herself. It isn’t all bad; there are still dance parties in the kitchen, coloring sheets stuck on the fridge, and leftovers stored safely for another day. All is done, and all will always be done.
But as stated earlier, nothing lasts forever. Soon the plastic ones will be replaced with fancy forks and knives. Cereal bowls will be left behind for tall glasses of protein shakes. Who knows what the future will be like? It is all just a hopeful imagination. The one that lets the wine glass fall asleep each night, tucked away alone in the giant steel confinement. It is nothing like the one this wine glass had dreamt of.
So, until then, this wine glass will be here, each night clinging on to its every ounce of strength to be the companion to the bowls, cups, and plastic spoons and forks. For that is what she knows best. To stand tall for the tiny ones.
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 