Monday, November 10, 2008

Rose-colored glasses

They're home. Safe and sound.

The two cups I previously mentioned for their loneliness and lostness have found a way back to where they belong.

Early Saturday morning I ransacked the cupboards of my townhouse kitchen to find the plastic glasses my misguided roommates had so skillfully sneaked from the cafeteria.

After finding one on a shelf and another in the dishwasher, I hurriedly stacked them into one another, ran out the door, and fastened them to the tail of my bike, all the while bracing for the backlash I would receive upon returning home that evening.

I dashed from the scene on my bike, making it safely on to campus with the stolen cups I stole back.

By dinnertime I managed to sneak them back into the dining hall and delicately place the merchandise on the conveyor belt/ tunnel of love before anyone noticed.

When I returned home that evening, no one said a word to me. None of my roommates would look me in the eye. Not a one acknowledged that I had even returned, tired and cold from the journey back.

Of course, it was late. And they were all asleep.

But still, I don't know if they can look past their sin and see me for who I really am: Hero of the Cups. Defender of the Drinkers. Friend to all glasskind.

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