The Glass

        At this very moment, there is a glass sitting on The Woman's bedside table.  This glass once held meaning; filled with passion and purpose and purified distilled natural spring water.  The glass, although it's task was simple, was essential to The Woman maintaining her happy, healthy hydration. But one evening, the glass ran empty, and though The Woman could refill it had she wanted to, she instead left the empty glass on her table, and there it stayed.  Desolate, defeated and dusty, there the glass sat watching The Woman drink from other receptacles.  And although the glass wanted to be happy for her, because she was keeping herself well hydrated, he couldn't help but feel as though he had been tossed aside and forgotten.