a mug crashes down from the shelf and there you are looking down at the smashed pieces on the linoleum
sprawled out chaotically in varying sizes and shapes many of them pointy and if you touch a little shard for example pull one out from under the refrigerator there is a good chance it will dig into your hand causing you to bleed and so you just stand there and stare at the whole mess
the thing is you loved that ******* mug it was your favorite the right shape: curvy at the bottom and again at the top fitting like a glove to your hand: three fingers around the handle and enough space not to burn your knuckles
and you stare and wonder how can this be how can there be a mug, warm and familiar and also this shattered mess on the floor how is your mind big enough how is the universe big enough
you've got to put them together go searching for the superglue but the container has sealed itself shut, as usual it doesn't matter even if you can recreate the basic shape there are so many cracks it can't possibly get through morning coffee
so you stand and cry and make no effort to stop your tears and they fall on the linoleum mixing with a few ceramic fragments
it gets dark so you get a dust pan and broom and do all there is to do: move on