delicate cups

June 3 1998

They start the day off with a big breakfast at a cafe popular with tourists and locals alike, though it’s late enough in the morning that they’re able to get a quiet table near the front windows. B orders eggs and kolbasa, while L attacks a plate of syrniki with red currant sauce and sour cream. Both of them drink spiced tea from delicate but chipped china cups, and under the table, B keeps hooking his ankle around L’s. It’s a comforting sort of pressure. For now.

It’s not lost on L that this could end up being a mistake, but the deed is done and there’s no taking it back now. And it had been nice, sleeping with B in that too-small bed, their legs tangled together, B waking up first and lighting a cigarette, smoking while he fiddled with L’s hair. If it could stay nice, that would be perfect. 

But ‘nice’ doesn’t feel right, after too long. They’re seasoned self-saboteurs, the both of them.

For now, though, there is warm breakfast and golden sunlight streaming in through the windows, cheering up the cafe’s faded red-checked curtains.

“A’s apartment building…” L says from around a mouthful of food, then swallows. “For long term use the sensors are probably electronic, not battery operated. We could try cutting the power.” 

Being Fancy
  1. Keep elbows off of the stained, chipped counter.
  2. Keep good posture is your old, wooden, creaking spinny chair.
  3. Hold mangled paper cup delicately with your pinky up and sip milk lightly.
  4. Take dainty bites of your microwavable dish and take care not to spill.
  5. Pat your lips dry with an old dishtowel.
  6. Now you are fancy. <3