I brought the mug to my lips and took a too-big mouthful. My tongue cooked a bit, but coffee is too good to sip. Steam rose from the cup, carried the scent into my nostrils, and I smiled to feel the warmth on this chill autumn morning. Leaves fell from the trees beyond my porch, carried to ground in a lullaby wind. I set my cup on the arm of my chair and watched, watched the leaves fall and cars go by, watched dogs walking people and babies driving strollers and acorns summoning squirrels to rescue them from the maggots and the rot.
Damn, that's good, I thought. I held the mug in my fingers for its warmth.
~Why are you drinking from me alone?
I haven't got any friends.
Well…it's difficult to explain to a mug, I think.
~You can explain to me! I'm very intelligent.
Well…yes, I guess the evidence for that is pretty strong. Well, I guess I'm shy, is the most important factor.
~And arrogant, a little?
Wh—! Why do you