By Lou Faber
He found the cup by the curb one morning walking to the bus. He rarely notice things on his walk, thinking always about the day ahead. But this day he saw it, picked it up and put it in his messenger bag intending to clean it later, when he got home after work. He had no idea why he wanted it. It wasn’t particularly pretty, a drab red with a mark where a decal had long ago peeled away. He forgot it, until he found it in his bag several days later, he washed it and placed it on a special shelf in his kitchen cabinet. The shelf was reserved for things he found with which he intended to do something, but that something had not yet happened. He knew something was missing from the shelf, so he took a selfie, printed it and placed it on the shelf.
Lou Faber’s work has previously appeared in The Poet (U.K.), Dreich (Scotland), The Alchemy Spoon (UK), Atlanta Review, Glimpse, Arena Magazine (Australia), Rattle, Pearl, Midstream, The South Carolina Review and Worcester Review, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.