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Voice, Stilled

Posted on June 30, 2008 - 5:59am at nobody asked
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This post is written by Roomie, who sits at Winston’s desk, fingers on his keyboard, right hand on his mouse, next to a half cup of coffee that he started to drink last Friday morning. The white cup has a picture of a bucking bronco on it, a cowboy waving his whip as he moves with the zest of life. A nasty film is beginning to form on the surface of the coffee.

Roomie has told everyone to leave the coffee cup there. She does not want the coffee thrown out, or the cup washed.