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    Aditus
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2020 - Spring - The Storm Entry

The Teacup - 1. The Teacup

Andy sat on her bench by the lion fountain. Lifting her face to the rising sun, she enjoyed the tranquility and peace of the early morning, before the other joggers crowded the park. Then she heard crunching gravel, she opened her eyes and squinted. She was no longer alone.

She’d already seen the man on her second round, near the butterfly garden. Andy hoped he would pass her bench. No such luck. After hesitating a moment, he sat down at a distance with an ungainly thud.

With his head bowed, he braced his elbows on his knees. She expected him to say something now. Why would he sit on her bench if he didn’t want to talk? There were other benches. But he didn’t talk to her. After a while, she couldn’t resist taking a closer look. The man was probably around thirty. His short, blond hair looked as if he’d run his hands through it many times. His goatee was neatly trimmed. His left earlobe was pierced with a small golden hoop. He had on long, black athletic pants, but there was hardly any dust on them or his green running shoes. The heather gray hoodie was too thick for the current weather. She thought he wasn’t here for running. Then she noticed he held something in his hand.

As if he’d felt her gaze, he turned to Andy and slowly opened his left palm.

It was a teacup that looked like a flower.

He extended his arm towards her. “Beautiful, huh?” He smiled serenely.

Not knowing how to react, Andy nodded.

“But I think it’s broken.” His smile dimmed. He rubbed at something on the cup with his finger.

Maybe a crack?

“Do you think it’s still usable?”

She shrugged. How would she know? She doubted it, though. If that was a crack, it was long.

“I could test it,” he said hopefully. With that thought in mind, the man got up, almost joyously, and hurried to the fountain. He dipped the cup into the water and filled it to the brim. On his way back he walked slower and slower when he noticed the trail of water he left behind. He sat down beside Andy again. This time a little closer. “I guess it’s broken beyond repair.” He brushed some smudge away with his thumb, maybe a leaf he’d picked up with the fountain’s water.

“I looked up the roses before I gave her the cup.” He smiled. “She has such an inquisitive mind.” Lovingly, he caressed the pink blooms in different sizes and green leaves that covered delicate white china and even continued on the cup’s inside.

He drew himself up a little. “It’s moss roses,” he said importantly. Then he poured the remaining water into the shrubbery behind them. After that he placed the cup on the bench between them. The remaining water instantly formed a dark circle around it where it was soaked up by the weathered wood.

“Now it’s broken.”

After a minute of too-long silence, Andy felt she should say something. “I’m sorry.”

“It was her favorite teacup. I gave it to her on our second date. I thought it would keep longer than real flowers, forever perhaps.”

“It’s really beautiful.” Noticing her mistake, Andy waved her hand, helplessly. “I-I mean it was beautiful.”

When she caught his wounded look, she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Which was why she didn’t ask what happened.

“And this morning, my girlfriend threw it at me.”

“Oh.” And then a question slipped out after all. “Why?”

“She overheard when I agreed with my best friend, as he pointed out a guy for being hot at the café yesterday. She said it’s unfair. She can’t compete with a guy. If it were another woman, she could, but not with a guy.”

“You could compare their asses.” Andy slapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

A crooked smile flashed over his face. “It is kinda funny. She always had a problem with it.”

Usually Andy didn’t have heart to hearts with complete strangers early in the morning. She asked anyway. “With what? Your bisexuality?” She guessed.

“Yes. She said she saw me looking at guys.”

“What’s wrong with that? Do you look at women too?”Andy wondered.

“I do.”

Andy nodded. “Because you’re not dead.”

He snorted. “I’ve been in a committed, monogamous relationship with her for two years now, and I love her.” He frowned. “She looks at other men too,” he said defensively.

“And? Do you have a problem with that?”

“No! She asked me the same thing.” He looked at Andy with incomprehension. “Why should I? I trust her.”

“Of course you do.”

“Then all of a sudden she asked me if I really loved her.”

“Huh?”

“According to her, if I’d really loved her I would become jealous when she looks at other guys.”

Andy raised her eyebrows. “Why would you? You know she loves you, therefore she won’t cheat on you. Right?”

“That’s what I thought, but then she asks me if I would become jealous if she were a guy and then would look at other guys.”

Andy snorted. “What a stupid question. She can’t be a man. If she were, he would be an entirely other person.”

He briefly contemplated Andy’s answer, then nodded eagerly. “Yes! Maybe that is why I had no answer to that question.”

“Hmm....” Andy looked at her watch.

“You have to go; I kept you long enough.” He got up. “Thank you for listening.”

But Andy wanted to know the rest of the story, stupid as it was, and patted a spot on the bench right beside her. “Not yet, I have some time still. Go on.”

He fell into his seat on the bench again. “Perhaps I was still trying to wrap my head around the thought of her being a man, and it took me a while to picture it. So that’s why she suddenly yelled, I knew it! I’m not what you really want. You’re gay! And then she grabbed the teacup and threw it at me.”

“Did she hit you?”

“I dodged it just in time, and it fell on the floor behind me.”

Suddenly he laughed. “It was nothing!” He guffawed. ”Absolutely nothing really happened… only in her imagination.” He stared at the fountain and murmured, “Just the proverbial tempest in a teacup.” Then he grinned ruefully. “This time with a fatal outcome for the teacup.”

Then he got up and nodded at Andy. “Thank you again for listening.” Then he left, walking like a man twice his age.

Sunlight glinted off the cracked teacup, still sitting on the bench.

Thank you for reading! Any comments are very welcome.
A special thank you goes to @Parker Owens for expertly fine tuning.
@Valkyrie edited the story competent as always. :thankyou:
Copyright © 2020 aditus; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2020 - Spring - The Storm Entry
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Chapter Comments

14 hours ago, Headstall said:

I've had those unlikely connections with strangers a few times in my life (usually in a bar, to be truthful :) ). Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone we don't know. I loved this, Adi. It was short and unexpected, but told me a story. I believe this man is at a crossroads (something I understand only too well), and bouncing his experience off another has helped set him on a course. I don't know what it is, but I am sort of happy for him. I saw the damaged teacup as a metaphor for his life... it's just a crack, but it doesn't hold water the way it used to, and he can't change that. I relate. Well done, my friend. Cheers... Gary.... :hug: 

Thank you, Gary! I like that you're happy for him.  :) His relationship was doomed to failure, as there was no trust. 

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16 hours ago, Valkyrie said:

I loved this story.  It packs so much into a few words.  A brief encounter at the park, but meaningful for both of them.  I imagine Andy picking up the teacup and bringing it home with her as a reminder of their encounter.  Like you said, they may meet again on the bench and have more interesting discussions.  Maybe even have tea in non-broken teacups :) Well done, my friend.  :hug:  

Thank you, Val for your help and comment. They might never meet again but I imagine  this conversation  will  have a Butterfly effect on their lives.

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I have been learning about kintsugi recently. That is the Japanese art of taking a broken object and repairing it such that the breaks and cracks are highlighted with gold rather than hidden. This makes the object even more meaningful, stronger, and more beautiful. All I could do while reading the story is think how that cup could be made whole again, with its wounds and flaws make an organic part of the whole. Then I thought about the broken relationship in your story and wondered whether there is a human version of kintsugi.

Edited by starboardtack
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4 hours ago, starboardtack said:

I have been learning about kintsugi recently. That is the Japanese art of taking a broken object and repairing it such that the breaks and cracks are highlighted with gold rather than hidden. This makes the object even more meaningful, stronger, and more beautiful. All I could do while reading the story is think how that cup could be made whole again, with its wounds and flaws make an organic part of the whole. Then I thought about the broken relationship in your story and wondered whether there is a human version of kintsugi.

I'm fascinated with your idea! The mender in me immediately began to sound out the possibilities to repair their relationship, but  all I felt was a decided No!  He left the teacup behind. It was a conscious decision, the relationship is beyond repair. On the other hand, your idea of a human aspect of kintsugi is inspiring. A broken relationship, leaves wounds. Do I want them mended without scars? Is this even possible? Or desirable? Should we accept the marks live leaves, maybe embrace them, emphasize them with gold powder? With all this in mind, I want to write a companion piece to The Teacup.

Thank you, starboardtack, for your comment. 

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Adi, I know I'm Johnny come lately, but I want to add my two cents.  I could definitely identify with your protagonist and throughout the first part of the story I could feel his pain and despair.  Fortunately, Andy was a good listener, and when she did speak she seemed to say the right things to get him thinking.  I'm glad he came to a realization and left the teacup behind, to let us know the relationship is over. 

As far as the saying 'tempest in a teapot', I'm not sure if it's something the younger generation is familiar with or is in their vocabulary.  As for us older folks, it made perfect sense, although we may have been oblivious to the fact that you were about to use it.  It was perfect and I loved this stoy.  Well done! 

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