The painted lettering has worn off the side. Unintelligible smudges of blue ink remains. It smears off with the sweat from my hands. Flat sides, easy grip. Flick off the cap and the little strip of plastic holds it on. The spout is covered with little ridges from it knocking against my teeth. It’s recyclable, so it says. I wonder if ink breaks down in a landfill.
350 ML full, according to the little lines imprinted into one side. Clear water forming air pockets as hydrogen and oxygen break apart in the Scottish sunlight. Clinging to the injection-molded plastic, desperately trying to remain in the collective. Every now and then one escapes. It scurries to the top in a fit of exuberance, then it disappears forever into a new state of being.
Hello everyone! Sorry it’s taken me a while to post anything. I’ve been trying to adjust to the new publishing schedule (and maybe celebrating being done with school a bit too much). Back to your regularly scheduled reading!
Creative Mine 