Grieving Lady

The teacup sat brilliantly on the table as if mocking her. Its beautiful designs and intriguing materials now seemed to be making fun of her. Vilava sat in the corner and glared harshly at the innocent, yet sinister, teacup.

“I hate you so,” she spoke to the piece of china frostily.

It hadn’t been all that long ago that she had adored the cup, and spent a lot of time polishing it, gazing at it, and talking to it warmly. Now, she hated the teacup.

“You’re the last thing I have left of him….I shouldn’t hate you so, but I do! I do so hate you, and it hurts me! Hating you should hurt you, but hate took a twist and hurt me!”

Vilava buried her face in her hands and cried. It had been a long time since she had left her emotions out, instead of trapping them and placing them in bubbles inside of her. She popped all the bubbles and screamed out her emotions.

She stopped releasing her emotions an hour later. She simply sat and felt dreadfully desolate and wallowed in her intense sadness. She heard the desperate scurrying of tiny feet and looked up in time to spot a mouse.

She smiled sadly the mouse and said softly, “Hello, Mouse. I shall not, nor will ever, hurt you. For you see, my burden is far too big for me to bear by my lonesome, and I should very much like some company. Would you mind accompanying me?”

The mouse squeaked and moved quickly over to Vilava. She lifted the mouse into the air and placed it daintily on top of her knees.

“I know this isn’t all that much, Mouse, but my poor, crumbling glass house is all I’ve left. This corner is the only place I feel at home anymore, you see. Back in the day, many a days were spent here. Laughing, being ourselves. But now, Mouse, those days are over. For you see, my husband has died.”

After Vilava said the word ‘died’, her emotions overtook her again, and she began to weep. A few tears splashed on the mouse, but he did not care. He was busy watching over his master’s grieving lady.