Teacup Tales
2nd Saturday prompt: word image
“A cityscape reflected in the surface of a forgotten teacup, left on a train that’s been traveling through a perpetual twilight.”
The edge of the cup glints tantalizingly in the afternoon sun, the rays falling across my lap, so that I am not too warm, not too cold, but just right. The Goldilocks temperature, I could have said.
The somnolent roll of the train, and the inviting depths of the ambient transitional lighting draw me in, my lashes sweeping over the edge into another time, another place.
I fall headlong into the glinting edge, its shine taking my hand, luring me into a different dimension. One where it is safe, and warm, softly hinting of potential deliciousness.
And I go along, following through, in the wake of the girl who chased the rabbit, allowing oh so many wonderful things to happen to her.
The horizontal reflections on the edge begin standing up, like greeting cards with built-in cityscapes that unfurl when you open the card. Buildings that initially appear approachable grow into tall looming structures, and I marvel at their sparkling heights and dull gold evenness.
I’ve been here before, the thought comes in waves, washing at my feet insistently, until I can ignore it no longer. Somewhere…
