broken thing · 01 · chip · oct 1987 · the younger sister
a wedge missing from the rim, about the width of a thumbnail. you can feel it before you see it. drink from the other side and the cup is still a cup — a small turning is all it asks of you.
the chip is from october, the year of the younger sister's wedding, when the cup met a sink at the wrong angle. she said throw it. nobody did. the cup was the grandmother's, and the grandmother had drunk from it the morning of her last kitchen, and so the cup carries the morning as well as the chip.
the chip is now part of what the cup is. it would not be the same cup without it. one drinks slightly to the left.
field-note · the chip catches the lip if you forget. you do not forget twice.