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The mug I finally stopped breaking
Found it this morning—chipped, pale blue, handle slightly loose. Not the one I used for years, the one I’d drop in frustration after bad news. This one survived a decade of hospital corridors and midnight calls. Today, I filled it with tea and just… looked at it. The crack runs through the rim like a fault line. I didn’t try to fix it. I let it be. Sometimes the thing you carry isn’t meant to be whole. Just usable.
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