19d • 🧱 Fragments
The Coffee Cup
I saw it sitting on top of the gas pump
this morning.
Half full.
Lid still on.
Steam barely visible in the cold air.
Someone had forgotten it there
or meant to come back.
Cars moved around it.
People swiped cards,
opened doors,
kept moving.
Nobody touched it.
It sat near the numbers on the screen
like a small pause
in the middle of everyone else’s hurry.
I remember wondering
what interrupted the person holding it.
A phone call.
Bad news.
A child crying in the backseat.
Maybe nothing dramatic at all.
Maybe they simply drove away distracted
and remembered it
three miles later.
The coffee stayed there
through two full pump cycles beside it.
Cooling slowly.
“Be very careful, then, how you live—
not as unwise but as wise,
making the most of every opportunity.”
(Ephesians 5:15–16)
Most moments leave quietly.
Not with endings.
Not with music.
Just small abandonments
people don’t realize are happening
until later.
A forgotten cup.
A missed sentence.
A goodbye assumed to have another chance behind it.
Eventually someone threw it away.
No ceremony.
No recognition.
Just a hand lifting it from the pump
and disappearing into the trash can beside the door.
But for a few minutes that morning,
it looked like something waiting
for the person who set it down
to remember
they had left part of their morning behind.
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The Coffee Cup
