Favorite Mug

wewriwa_square_4I’m trying to get into the habit of being a weekly participant at Weekend Writing Warrior. Chugging along alright, getting some steam!

Weekend Writing Warrior recap:

  • Sign up on the site.
  • Post 8 sentences of your writing, published or unpublished, to go live after 12:00 noon
  • Then visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8 sentence posts.
  • Spread the word! Twitter hashtag #8sunday.
  • More detailed rules here.

I’m sharing snippets from a wip called The First Nation. Last time I checked in with the Weekend Warriors, Raveena (our mc) had just left work and had returned home, to find her quarters–in which she lives with her family–strangely quietly.

*

I didn’t get a reply as I stood on the stool, reaching into the highest cabinet, the one that brushed the ceiling for my favorite mug. It was blue glass, see-through and chipped, but I’d had it since I could hold a cup. I filled it at the sink and drank as I wandered to my parents’ room. The door was closed. I knocked with the mug. “Everything alright?”

“No,” my mother replied, voice scratchy. “Come quickly.”

*

That’s my 8! Now, get on over to the Weekend Writing Warriors and check out some other great 8s. :)

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21 thoughts on “Favorite Mug

  1. burnsmillie says:

    Well done. I can almost see her cherished cup falling to the floor as she races headlong in to her mom…Ah, the panic!!!

  2. wouldn’t think they’d have a sink – certainly not as we know it. Good thing she knocked at the door and I agree great juxtaposition of emotions

    1. Yes, they still use sinks. I wouldn’t imagine sinks could change to the point that we wouldn’t recognize them, unless we stopped using water to wash ourselves. But in the case of this, they have plumbing. Faulty, and old at this point, but functional. It is a good thing she knocked–kinda. She doesn’t really want the know what’s going on.

      Thank you, Sue!

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