In Keeping with Grace

Опубликовано: 07 Январь 2025
на канале: Beck Wenger

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In Keeping with Grace

She stared deeply into the black liquid that filled the white, ceramic mug. As she slowly rotated her hand, she examined the frothy edges and noted how they failed to cling to the sides.
“Is this my life?” she wondered. “Am I failing to cling to the sides?”
She exhaled deeply, notably felt her chest sink as every last modicum of oxygen vacated the two giant sponges that were, in every right, proper vessels of life. In any event, her chest fell sharply. She brought the mug to her mouth, and with a shrug of her shoulders quickly swallowed every last drop.
Down the hatch it went, with as much ambivalence as the crushing of an ant. There were no thoughts of the ant’s relatives and how they might feel, no thought of the hive’s shock wave of grief or, at the very least, decline in productivity. She swallowed the tepid liquid with just as little concern, stuffed some papers into her bag with equal disregard for the crumpling sounds that ensured these items would no longer be beautiful, rose to her feet, and left the apartment.
In her pocket, she kept a pack of Bubilicious bubblegum. She palmed it hotly with wild anticipation for the burst of gushy flavor such a large piece of goppy, saliva-inducing candy was sure to bring.
“Why not have two,” she thought, feeling saucy.
The gum had melted slightly and the once firm tower of thick pieces, neatly stacked to form a singular rod, now gave a little under the pressure of her palm and felt a bit flexible even—another reminder of her potential short-comings.
She brushed off this troublesome thought and opened the paper wrappers, peeling off the gooey treat with her teeth. The flavor was robust. Stopping at the crosswalk, she inserted the second piece. Her jaw was really working now, opening and closing quite dramatically to gnaw upon the ever-growing gob of gum.
“Why not a third,” she thought, “At least it lessons how mundane my days have become.”